


The Galaxy under an Iron Heel.

by KanisRussell



Category: Hearts of Iron (Video Game), Mass Effect Trilogy, Wolfenstein (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Nazi Germany, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Death, Gen, Genocide, Military, Original Character(s), Politics, Science Fiction, Slavery, The New Order: Last Days of Europe, War, War is hell, Wehrmacht, schutzstaffel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanisRussell/pseuds/KanisRussell
Summary: After conquering the Earth and placing it beneath the heavy weight of a jackboot, the Third Reich sets it's hungry eyes on a new target. The Final frontier. They discover things they never thought possible, and quickly finds that they might not be the only masterrace in existence.As it turns out, Life does not forgive weakness...
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

****

**25/2 1964**

**Somewhere in rural Cuba.**

It was sunny and hot, unbearably so. James could never get used to the heat down here. Then again, he did leave the cool climate back in Illinois in favor of the relative freedom that came with living down here. One of the few places yet untouched by the Reich’s aggression. He walked through the muddy street of this small village. He nodded to greet the villagers as he made his way towards the small bar located in the heart of the village.

As he got inside, he noticed that it seemed rather lively. Even considering that this was in fact a Tuesday. He scanned the bar for the one person he was looking for. When he didn’t see him right away, he double checked his watch to see if perhaps he had gotten there earlier. When he noticed that he was on time, he quickly went over to the bartender.

James ordered a beer and asked if he had seen another gringo in the bar. The bartender pointed to one of the corners that had it’s curtains closed. He didn’t say anything, a small agreement that he had neither seen nor heard anything. James nodded and dropped a small tip for the bartender. He walked over to the corner and slowly opened the curtains. Behind sat a man, silently enjoying his gin and a cigar. He huffed out some smoke as he inspected the man who had just opened his curtains.

“Come in and close it.” The man ordered, but not in a demanding way. James quickly did as told, and sat in front of the man. “You can say what you will about Cuba, but god damn, they sure know how to make a good cigar.” The man remarked as he say the large cigar back into it’s place in the ashtray.

“Nice to see you again Richard.” James smiled.

“You too James… But how in the hell can you live in this heat?” Richard asked as he adjusted his collar. “It’s hot, and it smells like a goddamn sewer.” He remarked.

“I wouldn’t call it living. Surviving is probably a better term.” James smiled, and Richard chuckled a bit.

“I can imagine.” Richard said as he took a sip of his gin. “It’s a good gin. Reminds of the one I had in London almost 20 years ago. Those fellers at the OSA sure knew how to pick ‘em.” Richard remembered as he got that far away look he usually had when he thought back to better times.

“I wouldn’t know. Never been to England.” James replied, and every time that Richard mentioned it, he wish he had done so when he had the chance. Now, there was even a small chance of James ever getting back to his home state.

“One that you might… God willing.” Richard suggested, James nodded. Silently hoping he would live to see the day. “Did you get my full message?” Richard asked.

“No. I only got the memo to haul my ass over to the nearest place they still served gin.” James once again smiled, Richard tried to hide the small chuckle he made. He took another sip of his gin, and James followed suit with a sip of his beer.

“Our spies in Germania say he is ill.” Richard said.

“Who?” James asked.

“Hitler.” Richard answered coldly, and it almost made James choke on his beer. He hadn’t expected to hear that. He took a few seconds to compose himself.

“Ill as in-”

“He is dying. Our sources say the doctors don’t give him much more than six months to live, if that.” Richard replied, his warm and emotional expression was gone. In it’s place was the face of someone planning something big.

“Shit… So it’s finally happening?” James asked hopefully. Hitler had done everything to destroy everyone’s lives in this world. Earth was literally resting beneath The Reich’s Jackboot, never even allowed an ounce of freedom.

“It is. We’ve double-checked, triple checked even, he really is dying. He is quite old as well, so it was sort of expected.” Richard explained. Not to James though, he had expected someone like Hitler to be the life long face of the Reich. His immortal enemy. Yet now, he was on death’s bed? Seemed almost surreal.

“What will come afterwards? I assume Göring is the still the successor?” James asked.

“‘has been the de facto successor since Hess died in the skies over Scotland. Though I doubt he is really gonna be able to perform any actions independently. The Wehrmacht have their hand so far up his ass, they can touch his ribs. Not to mention he’s higher than a kite half the time, busting himself full of meth and opium every chance he gets.” Richard explained.

“You don’t believe he will be successor?” James asked confused. Göring always seemed like the obvious choice to him. The famous uncle of the Reich, second only to Hitler in popularity. But it was true enough, the years of drug abuse had taken a toll on Göring.

“I think Bormann is the obvious second choice. He has been _real_ cozy with the Führer for the last few years. It’s obvious he won’t be changing the course Germany has on been so far. A real conservative… I don’t know if that’s worse…” Richard remarked as he slipped James a piece of paper. James eagerly read through it. It was a report on the situation, and it was very in depth.

“Wait a minute…. You think Speer is a possibility?” James asked as he read through it. Richard puffed out some smoke.

“About as likely as Goebbels is to be picked. And even less likely to win an armed struggle if any such thing were to occur.” Richard remarked.

“Armed struggle? You think that-”

“Yes. Probably a 70 per cent chance of it happening. These people hate each other’s guts.” Richard replied.

“What about the last 30 per cent?” James asked.

“Unless they all get together and talk it out, they won’t be able to get each other’s viewpoints. If they form a cabinet together, then maybe.” Richard answered. James nodded slowly as he went back to reading the report in front of him.

“It says Speer is the best option for us?” James was confused. But, fact remained that he knew very little of the Architect, who was one of the Führer’s best friends.

“He is the most likely to reform the Reich. You know how people are, give ‘em an inch they’ll take-”

“-A mile, I know. So he is the one to open the floodgates?” James asked, and Richard nodded. “Why shouldn’t he win then? Seems like the Germans should be in favor of it.”

“Because the only people openly supporting him are students and hippies.” Richard said. “Neither is good for winning a war.” He added. James nodded. So Speer was the best scenario for the Reich going forward.

“What about this last one-” James read a bit further in the report. “Heydrich?” He asked. He knew that name. Anyone who knew that name should live in eternal fear as long as that man lived.

“Pray to God he doesn’t get the spot… The world will be doomed if that happens.” Richard said, his voice now strong and commanding. James nodded. There was no telling what would happen if Heydrich got to be the leader of all of the German forces… Or worst yet… He got his hands on the nuclear launch codes… The man was a puppet for Himmler, no doubt, though James often wondered how much trust the SS leader had for the man himself. In the last decade however, he had gone even more mad, shifting the boundaries of brutality that people once would have thought of as existing only in fiction.

There was a small period of silence between them as James read on. It was a detailed report on what the resistance had gathered. Different scenarios and different outcomes for the world. Some were worse than others.

“So what do you want me to do?” James finally asked. Richard didn’t say anything as he reached into his bag to grab some more stuff. He handed James a sizable envelope. It felt heavy in his hand. He slowly opened it, and dug up it’s contents. First thing that greeted him was an Argentinean passport, which had his portrait and a fake name in it. James looked up at Richard with a raised eyebrow.

“I need you to travel to Germania. Be my eyes and ears, and see if you can make contact with the remains of the Kreisau Circle.” Richard requested.

“But we can just get Blazkowicz-”

“He is dead!” Richard had raised his voice, but quickly stopped himself before he alerted everyone in the bar. “He died four years ago! They all died in that dreaded submarine!” Richard said. James had never accepted that. He had met Blazkowicz many years ago… And that man always seemed immortal. When they said he had died in 1946, he didn’t accept that. And he didn’t accept it when they said he died in 1960. “You need to let that go. We can’t all sit back and expect Blazkowicz to come back from the grave to save us all.”

James sighed. He knew it was no use arguing with Richard. He was too stubborn. “But what about the Red Army? Surely they will attack if the Reich falls into civil war.” James suggested.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that fairy tale? The Red Army living in bunkers in the Urals, building weapons of war and just waiting for the right time…” Richard had heard the story by so many members in the resistance. He was getting tired of it. Story went that after the Nazis seized Moscow, the Red Army retreated to the Urals, where Stalin had been building bunkers for them. And that now they were just arming up for the final showdown.

James looked down in the table. He knew that he put a lot of faith in different rumors. But the resistance was simply in no shape to either overthrow the Reich, or rule it afterwards. Not to mention that the resistance was held together by so many factions that all believed in different futures.

James took all of the papers and put them in his bag. “What do you want me to do?” He asked.

“There will be a boat waiting for you in Havana that will take you to Europe. Enter the Reich under the pretense of going there for a business delegation, export of meat and what not. Try to contact this person-” Richard slipped a note with a name and phone number on it. “-And work your way from there. Send all your letters to my current PO box in Chile. You know the one.” Richard commanded as he took the last dip of his drink and smoke a bit more of his cigar.

“I understand. I’ll get it done.” James assured him. Richard nodded, content with the answer.

“Good luck… And god speed my old friend.” Richard said as he stood up and shook hands with James. Maybe for the last time. The future seemed uncertain at best. James walked out of that bar with both excitement and dread in his mind all at once. He would try his best.


	2. Chapter 2: Hot Summer Ends

**13/6 2020.**

  
  


**Germania.**

  
  


Martin watched as the Japanese delegation viewed the portraits with an almost annoying interest. It was a little over 4 PM in the afternoon, and they were supposed to meet the Führer about two hours ago, right after lunch.

  
  


They all looked up at the portrait of one of the larger than life Führers of Germany. The gilded Reichmarshall.

  
  


“And here is our second Führer, Hermann Göring. One of our greatest leaders! A worthy successor to Adolf Hitler. He ruled Germany from 1964 to 1972. His greatest achievements include many expeditions into the perilous Congo, and bringing order to our nation after the death of Adolf Hitler, rest his soul. Had it not been for him, we wouldn’t even be speaking in this building. Indeed, he was the one who also renovated the Reichstag, the Reichskanzlei and the completion of the Volkshalle. He even made this embassy complex we stand in now alongside Albert Speer!”

  
  


Martin spoke with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, trying to keep the delegates entertained even though he knew they didn’t understand a single word of his broken Japanese.

  
  


He pointed to the portrait right next to Göring. The one showed a more humble figure, that of Albert Speer. “Now Speer was always a bit of a controversial figure in the Reich. But in the end, he proved himself loyal not only to the Führer, but to the German people, and ensured our nation’s continued wellbeing. He proved himself a good Führer as well. Had it not been for Speer, we would have been mortal enemi-” Martin stopped himself. This kind of talk was not for someone of his rank. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

  
  


Martin kept on talking about the different Führers throughout the times. It was about all he was good for at this point, as the delegates were visibly becoming more and more bored by the second. He hoped it was enough to buy himself time until he got an update on their meeting with the current Führer. Truth be told, he knew very little about the Führers that came after Speer, most of them had been the rapidly aging old guard of the NSDAP, each one dying faster than the last. Even their current Führer was one of the last people who remembered a time before the city they currently resided in was not named Germania, but Berlin.

  
  


Just as Martin was coming up to the last portrait, he was interrupted by the door being slammed right open. It was none other than the Führer’s personal secretary. 

  
  


“Ah, right on time.” Martin smiled weakly and finally began to speak in German again before swiftly walking towards the secretary. “ _Where the hell have you been?!”_ he whispered through gritted teeth, trying his damndest to keep a smile.

  
  


“ _We need to talk… Right now._ ” The secretary almost demanded and yanked in Martin’s sleeve.

  
  


“Damn right we do. Where is the Fuhrer?” Martin silently hoped that the translator following the delegates was not relaying the conversation to them right now.

  
  


The secretary looked at Martin with tired eyes, “Dead.” he said simply and without warning. And though the translator did not quite hear him, the delegates did not need their german-for-beginners handbook.

  
  


Martin just looked at the secretary completely dumbfounded. His world almost shattered in that moment. In all his 30 years of service in the embassy, he had never been at such a loss for words. Usually, the death of the Führer came with more warning than this. 

  
  


Still, he had a job to do, and like a true german, he planned to see it through to the end. “Gentlemen.” Martin spoke to the delegates, not even attempting to speak in Japanese anymore, “I’m afraid I will have to leave you now, there is work to be done.” with a grim face he turned his back to the confused japanese men who were still waiting on their translator for an explanation.

  
  


It is written into German law that upon the death of every Führer, it is not the people nor the army that must be informed first, but the Reichskanzlei. He was against the clock now. There was no time to waste.

  
  


‘ _Tick tock tick tock…’_

  
  


* * *

  
  


**An hour later.**

  
  


“What the fuck do you mean _he’s dead?_ ” Gottfried bellowed through the empty room, save for him and his friend, currently sitting at his desk with the same solemn face he’s had for the past 15 years.

  
  


“That’s what the Reichskanzlei says, and that’s what I’m telling you.” Ulfric explained calmly, not even paying attention to the general’s mad marching around the room.

  
  


“And _why_ exactly, are _you_ the one telling me and not the goddamn Oberkommando?!”

“Settle down Gottfried, it’s only the death of the Führer.” From the lower end of his desk Ulfric leaned down and got himself a group of papers, all perfectly folded and disgustingly clean.

  
  


“I will knock your fucking jaw off right now.” he pointed menacingly towards the suited aristocrat. “ _Just the death of the Führer_ , he says”

  
  


“I don’t see why you’re so surprised, it’s been happening every decade now. With how replaceable they’ve become, you would think Schmidt had some good ideas with democratizing the Reich.”

  
  


“Be very careful what you say next, Ulfric. Suggesting such things as degeneracy and liberalization of the Reich earns you a bullet between the eyes, and as the highest ranking officer of the Heer in this room, it is my duty to put a swift end to any and all disobedience.” Gottfried said as he adjusted himself in his seat. The sound of his medals clinking was the only sound in the room for a second or two.

  
  


“Is that so? And how exactly will you put an end to my disobedience?”

  
  


“With a bullet between the eyes you daft cunt.”

  
  


“Indeed. Anyways, before you kill me, let’s figure out what to do now. I’ve got a few thoughts on who the parties will try to elect next.” he began placing the papers next to one another on the table, they were dossiers, files on all notable members of each faction currently occupying their one-party state.

  
  


“You never did take me seriously.” he put his gun back in the holster and walked closer to the table to get a better look. His jackboots’ steps echoing throughout the small office. 

  
  


“Our first candidate would be Heinz Bauer, local representative of the Speerites.” Ulfric pointed to a picture of a scrawny man with a balding head, his cheeks barely full of meat you could see the definition of his skull.

“You really gotta stop using those nicknames…” Gottfried commented with a sigh

  
  


“He’s an alright man, morally, but in terms of business interests there’s little difference between him and an ant in a colony.”

  
  


“I can see that, look at his eyes, you’d think his mother got fucked by an otter or something.”

  
  


“Indeed.” he moved onto the other dossier. “Next would be the representative of your favorites, the Göring boys.” Had he not known Ulfric as good as he did, Gottfried would almost assume that was a joke.

  
  


“Wenzel Schuster…” Gottfried read through the file. The name sounded familiar. “Wasn’t he-”

  
  


“Our old boot camp instructor, yes. Come a long way from making you clean the latrines every night.”

  
  


“Crusty old son of a bitch. Remember that time he caught us playing cards in the barracks? Almost had us all sent to the firing range.”

  
  


“As targets, yes I remember.”

  
  


Moving on, they scanned over the dossier of the technocrat leader. “Waldo Beitel, I don’t know much about him, german scientist from Louisiana, though from his records he’s still pure-blooded.” Ulfric tapped a finger on his forehead trying to recount all the information. “Besides that, he’s your typical fat scientist type, loves to think about inventing, doesn’t actually want to do it. Perfect for R&D. I think I know what the Brauns like about him.”

  
  


And finally, the file Gottfried seemed the most anxious of reading. “And, of course, our dear friends in the conservative faction. Headed by the ever-vigilant falcon Kurt Bormann.”

  
  


“Fucker is still riding on the success of his dear granddad, isn’t he?” Gottfried asked with a laugh.

  
  


“Like a feudal lord, stuck in the past.”

  
  


“Well this little rundown you’ve given me is great, but why? I already know you’re with the conservatives, no matter how much both of us hate that little shit Bormann.”

  
  


“Why indeed Gottfried.” he hated whenever his friend got that tone about him, it always led to trouble, and he would be the one paying for it, this time however it wouldn’t be just scrubbing latrines.

  
  


“The reason I told you this before anyone outside the Reichskanzlei was the same reason the Reichstag is currently on fire.” he got up from his well-made leather armchair, engraved with gold and encrusted with jewels from the congo. “We are currently going through what would in layman’s terms be considered a fucking shitstorm, if you will pardon my french.”

  
  


“No shit, but it’s not like we can do anything about it. And before you start giving me some grand speech about how I would be the perfect man for the job let me remind you that my wife still makes me sleep on the couch every night. So how will I be able to rouse a crowd of people.”

  
  


“I sometimes admire the high image you have of yourself Gottfried. But no, I do not think you would make a good Führer.”

  
  


“You son of a bitch.”

  
  


“What I _do_ think however, is that none of the people we just looked at are fit to be Führer either.”

  
  


Gottfried raised an eyebrow. They weren’t new thoughts by any means, but Gottfried could only guess where this might be going. “You aren’t suggesting that-”

  
  


“No. I have no wish to be the Führer Gottfried, nor do I have any intentions of placing myself in first place in the upcoming race for the top. The person who shall become Führer will be whoever the Reich deems them to be. Yet despite that, I have no intentions of standing idly by whilst old men in suits continue to rattle on about the old days while our country slowly starts to rot away. Let Bormann have the fucking seat for all I care, or let Schuster or any of these old farts come in to take the crown. But they won’t be there for long, the old guard is dying, you know it, and I know it.”

  
  


“Hold it.” Gottfried stopped him before he could let another one of those big words enter his ears. Ulfric was known as someone who would often get into long, dramatic tirades about any topic, truly, the life of a politician suited him better than that of a man in uniform ever could. But that didn’t mean Gottfried was about to deal with this pansy bullshit for any longer. “Stop trying to run circles around me with fancy poetry, just tell me what you want to do.”

  
  


“I want the two of us to work together, and show the Reich the tumor beginning to grow in its body. If we’re successful in this, someone useful might just turn around and start leading our country down the right path.”

  
  


“So this entire little plan of yours is based-”

  
  


“Based on the combined skills of my political efforts and based on the combined muscle of you and your soldiers.”

Gottfried narrowed his eyes, and for once, he spoke completely seriously with his old friend. “If you’re actually suggesting that we coup the government, I _will_ shoot you right here and right now.”

“Please, I’d never stop so low, not yet anyways.”


	3. Chapter 3: Stagnation is the death of a nation.

**2/8 2025**

**Reichstag, Germania, Greater German Reich.**

The Reichstag was packed. Any and all who was worth anything within the German Reich had showed up. Another Führer had kicked the bucket, marking the fourth in five years to die. One of them only lasted 43 days before kneeling over and dying after a stroke.

Ulfric was seated in the front row. Lightly tapping his briefcase. The noise within the room was unbearable. All of them yelling at one another, each one louder than the last. Yet somehow in the sea of words, not one was making any sense. He cursed himself for not bringing his aspirin. The speaker of the Reichstag called for a silence with three strokes of his gavel. Suddenly, silence became of the otherwise unruly crowd. Ulfric adjusted himself in the seat, making sure he sat upright and looked presentable.

They were going to announce the next Führer in just a few moments. Hopefully someone competent this time, yet in his head he knew that would not happen, and he and Gottfried would have to get to work again.

“Gentlemen....” the speaker began. “As you know… The period of mourning has passed, and the time has come for the party to elect the person to pick up the mantle of the Führer. As you all know, our great Führer did not get a chance to pick a successor, so the job has befallen to us. All of you have now voted, and the time has come to see the results.”

He almost felt bad for Martin, who got promoted to the official speaker of the Reichstag ever since the death of Führer Bormann. He had held this speech so many times, Ulfric was sure it was more a sense of familiarity driving him rather than a script. If his intonations and speech was anything to go by, he had memorized this whole thing three years ago. He must have been the speaker to cover the most passing of leadership by now.

Ulfric locked eyes with someone from the militarist faction for just a second. He didn’t even know the name of him, but his seated position gave away his loyalty. Ulfric looked away again, not wanting to start a staring completion just as the results were about to be revealed.

“As we all know, ever since the passing of our great Führer, Adolf Hitler, and the rise of his successor, Führer Hermann Göring, the law was passed that the Reichkanzlei is the ultimate authority in ultimately deciding who shall continue the legacy of our great Reich.” Martin reached from under his podium to bring out the envelope hand sealed with the mark of the German Eagle on it. “And so…” He nervously moved to open it, hesitating for a second, “...it is with a clear conscience, and with the utmost respect of the Reich’s wishes that we announce…”

Time slowed down in Ulfric’s mind as he buried his hand to his temple, hiding his face. A thousand thoughts ran through his head, and none of them pretty. This time around it was so obvious of the lack of suitable candidates all the parties had, they were bad before, but at least some of them had characters, these ones might as well have been cardboard cutouts of Speer, Göring, Bormann and Hitler himself. He was so lost in thoughts however that he didn’t even manage to hear who was elected, he simply knew that he would have to get rid of them.

It was to his shock however that when he opened his eyes, the entire council’s sight was on him, partnered with thunderous applause. He was confused, unsure as to what was going on around him.

“Ulfric Kuhn, by the power invested in me and by the will of all the German people, please, step forth.” Martin spoke to the microphone, looking at him with an expression filled face he had not seen from the lad in years. Ulfric slowly, but surely, arose from his seat. Once again being met with applause from the conservative faction, a few within the reformist faction were clapping their hands as well. Some within the militarists even seemed to be giving approving nods, yet none showed it openly. He also caught the sight of some of the few loyal SS politicians within the Reichstag, they were silently sitting in their chairs, stone faced.

Ulfric moved forth. Almost gliding among the marbled floor towards the podium. Once there, Martin handed him the Reichsmarshall’s ceremonial baton, engraved and littered with gold, luxuriously encrusted with both the German Eagle and the Iron cross. Perhaps if he was still in his old military uniform, it might have even looked good on him, but unfortunately, he did not stake his claims with the militarists, so the only thing he wore to meetings was a suit.

“If you will, Mein Führer, address the nation.” Martin requested with a slight smile on his face, he hated how excited the man looked in all this.

Ulfric stood there as stone faced as the SS men had been just a few moments ago, scanning his eyes over the horizon in front of him and holding the podium as tight as he could, so as to not reveal his shaking hands. The room had turned silent as they looked to him, as if they were seeking answers to everything. He never realized how tall it was at center stage.

The silence continued as Ulfric struggled for words. He would’ve at least prepared a speech if he thought this was ever going to be a possibility in a million years.

“Thank you.” he said simply, and the awkward silence turned to a quick chuckle. It wasn’t often the Führer showed gratitude, nor was it often that they were sweating profusely on their inauguration. Just as he seemed lost for words once more, he saw a figure in the back. Standing proudly in his military uniform. Gottfried had perhaps the biggest smile he had ever seen. He knew he had something to do with this. Words suddenly came to him.

“My fellow Germans… Friends… This is the greatest honor one could ever hope for… I hope to use this opportunity to help the Reich survive. It is no secret that our glorious nation is plagued by a cancerous growth. A sickness swelling from the inside, something we have been long overdue on addressing.” The mood suddenly turned less joyful as more and more of the Reich’s politicians seemed to be having more serious faces, it seems they were beginning to realize just what they had done. “I won’t lie to you, I am sure you have seen it yourselves, but we are on a clock. If we truly wish to pursue the father of our modern nation’s wishes, and have Germany last a thousand years and more, then there is only one thing to do.”

He took another look at the sacred baton, this mantle had been passed from Führer to Führer over the years, exchanging so many hands, Ulfric finally realized the position he was in. It was the same position Hitler had been in, that Göring was in, Speer, Bormann, all of them were in this very same position. Yet unlike the fat pigs in front of him right now, they choose to act, to use this baton to its greatest extent. And like those fat pigs in front of him, Ulfric was no different. He was no saint, he was no mastermind plotter or hardened soldier, he was a politician. There was no miracle he would be able to perform, no great sweeping reforms, no second Night of the Long Knives.

He raised up the baton, high enough for all to see, and with one swift motion smashed it on the podium, sending the mantle flying.

“My fellow Germans. This baton has no place within the Reich.” he lazily threw the remaining bit in his hand on the ground, and yet inside he screamed, for in his moment of pure emotion he had perhaps made enemies of the entirety of Germany. “This baton, the symbol of our eagle soaring across the world, has no place in a country that has forgotten their values. That has forgotten the goal our great Führer set out to do in the first place. Making a world free from degeneracy and impurity. Ensuring the Aryans’ survival.” That was when he spotted them, the SS men perked up, as did the conservatives, whilst the militarists and reformers looked on in horror at what their newly elected Führer had done.

“Our citizens grow fat and lazy from their luxuries. They have no ambitions anymore. Our great Wehrmacht sits still, content on playing cards and watching television. Our economy is falling behind, debts are piling up. The streets on fire because of protests, and rightly so! Have we forgotten what it means to be German? Did we not conquer the world once, and then the moon? And then the Solar System? Do we just sit here, and wait? For what? For the resources? For the land? Or to simply reaffirm our desire to prove our superiority.” he smashed his fist on the podium, sending the broken top of the baton flying off. “I say Nein! I will not have us squabble amongst each other like children! I will not have our race grow weary and fat of the spoils of conquest while our enemies plot against us! I will lead the Reich, yes, but I will _lead_ it, not rule it. And as Führer, I shall say this…”

He looked around one last time, making sure to remember the faces he would see this day, remember and burn them into his memory. They will be his enemies from now on, from this day until his death they will oppose every one of his actions and try to undermine him no matter the cost. And yet in the end, all he could see was his friend, having the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and fighting the urge not to bust out laughing. It was that sight that made Ulfric realize why he was doing this. He had the power, he had the Wehrmacht, he had his friend.

“I shall say this.” he continued, now calm as a flowing river. “I expect you to do the same.”

* * *

**Later that day…**

**Ulfric’s office, Reichskanzlei, Germania.**

Ulfirc was storming around his office. Knocking over bookshelves and whatever else came in his path. Meanwhile, Gottfried was sitting lazily in a chair to the side, laughing his ass off, while balancing a Weissbier in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“Gottfried you utter baboon of a man, you incompetent, self-serving, son of a bitch. You bastard, you cowfucker, you ninkompomf, you motherless piece of actual garbage “

“Settle down Ulfric, it’s nothing major.”

“I will end your entire career right here!”

Gottfried’s eyes shone with amusement as he stared at Ulfric. The bastard took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled smoke at him with a grin, as if testing him.

“Doubtful, but I wouldn’t mind an early retirement in Tahiti if that’s what you’re suggesting.” Gottfried leaned forward in his chair, “You need me, Ulfric. No matter how much you think for yourself, or how many mind games you try and play with the other pansies in here. All those tongue twisters won’t do you any good when the SS come knocking.” he did a little stomp with his jackboots. “And that’s where I come in.”

“Why the fuck do I need you? I just committed political suicide! Because of YOU!” He growled, “Every low life ball of piss in the Reichstag smells blood in the water… MY BLOOD! Do you understand? And they will step over their own mother if it meant being the one that puts two bullets in the back of my head. I’m FUCKED Gottfried! With a capital F! I won’t last ten minutes out there!”

  
  


He resisted the urge to snot his friend across the face when all he did was stare back at him with the brightest smile on his face. Gottfried threw his arms out wide.

“You got me, Ulfric. And by having me as your buddy, you have the support of most of the Wehrmacht. The militarists wouldn’t dare touch you if it means losing support in the ranks. The Reformists liked your little speech… Most of it anyway. The conservatives were a little shook, I suppose they liked your references to the good old days. The SS are the ones you have to worry about, but even they don’t dare touch the Führer, at least not so soon after the election.” Gottfried explained as he took another drag of his cigarette. Ulfric shook his head.

“This is why you never became a politician, Gottfried. The army may have my back, but what about the other fronts? What will your guns and men do if someone poisons my food or just kills me while I’m asleep?”

Gottfried waved away his concerns.

“Then they’ll lose the support of the army, which means about 90% of the current standing army in the Reich, and as many of the people you can get on your side at that time. I’ve been on these streets Ulfric, the people aren’t scared, they’re not angry, they’re not even sad at this point. They’re apathetic. They don’t care about anything at this point.”

Ulfric scoffed, “Big words from you monkey man, you open a dictionary since I last saw you?”

“I’ll let that one slide as I see you’re very emotional right now. However, what I’m saying is that if you make them care, then the people would be more willing to support you.”

Ulfric narrowed his eyes and calmed down a bit, his friend got the politician's side of his brain working again. “That could work…” he muttered, placing a hand on his chin to contemplate. “But there’s no guarantee. And like you said, if they’re apathetic then it simply means my words will just become white noise to them.”

“Not exactly.” Gottfired got up from his chair and took another drag from his cigarette, “You’re a political unknown, all the suits in the Reichstag may know you or have heard of you but the common German not so much. This whole event and your inauguration could just be enough to pique their interest.” Gottfried clapped him on the shoulder, “It's not every day the Führer is someone they’ve never heard of.”

“I… suppose you have a point there.” Ulfric hesitantly conceded.

“Not to mention you were very… Unorthodox in your speech and mannerism… Not everyday someone smashes the baton of the Reich Marshal.” Gottfried laughed.

“Oh god, I did do that, didn’t I?”

“Never knew you were so strong, Ulfric. I remember you faking your push-ups back in the army.”

“Yeah well even an ant can lift a log every now and again.” Gottfried shook his head.

“And now that’s where the problem is.” he took one last big puff of his cigarette and put it out in the decorated ashtray. “You see yourself as an ant. You think Hitler or Göring ever saw themselves like that?”

“Don’t try and philosophize to me. That’s my job. You might as well be wearing clown shoes if you tried.” Ulfric straightened his tie and looked forward with a new look of determination.

“Well then… I suppose I better start writing my speech then.” Ulfric said.

“Besides… It ain’t like you’ve never been double crossed before…”

“I told you not to ever bring that up again!”

* * *

**20/8 2025**

**Ulfric’s office, Reichskanzlei, Germania.**

Ulfric had been busy. He never realized just how busy he would end up being when elected Führer. He thought his former position didn’t allow for much free time, but this thing took up everything. He was running on a good four hours of sleep most days. He had even thought about bringing his bed to his office, if it wasn’t for the fact that there were constant guests in there, from both domestically and abroad.

He was signing off a new law that allowed for greater freedom of travel for labourers both within the Reich and between the Reich’s unitypakt members. He hoped it would encourage economic growth in both the Reich and in the other member states as well. He sighed as he put the pen down on the desk again.

“Mein Führer… Is there something wrong?” Reinhard Müller asked. His newly appointed minister of finance.

“No, I’m fine. I know these reforms are for the betterment of the Reich… I just think I need more sleep.” Ulfric replied with a weak smile as he handed the minister the piece of paper.

“If I may, mein Führer… You could always hand out some of the lesser tasks to a secretary, or a deputy of the party.” Müller suggested as he placed the paper in his briefcase.

“I know, and maybe I will. But bureaucracy will be the death of me… I’m no Martin Bormann, you know.” Ulfric responded, he sunk into his chair. “You may leave, Müller. I’m expecting the chief of the army any moment.” Ulfric requested.

“Of course. Heil Germania!” Müller said as he saluted the Führer. Ulfric was happy to have five minutes for himself before Gottfried would show up. ‘ _Perhaps this is what killed off all the previous Führers, endless wor_ k’ he thought about it for a second, then scoffed ‘ _No, none of those lazy fucks were doing half the work I’ve done these past few days_.’

He walked over the coffee machine he had installed on the far side of his office. His legs felt weak as he moved across the floor, even though he had been seated most of the day. He weakly pressed the button that would produce him some liquid energy. When his cup was full, he took a well deserved sip.

“This stuff is the mother’s milk…” He muttered to himself. Feeling a small boost at the bitter taste. He walked back again, he sat back down in his chair and leaned back as he took another sip.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Ulfric yelled. The door creaked open. And it was none other than Gottfried, in his new Field Marshal uniform. He waved a salute as he entered. “Please, take your time.” Ulfric remarked as he rubbed his temples.

“You tired already? It’s only like 2 in the afternoon.” Gottfried asked, not jokingly as Ulfric might have expected.

“You bet your ass I’m tired. Haven’t been outside of this room in 48 hours.” Ulfric angrily replied. “Anyhow, let’s get down to brass tacks. Gottfried, we are fucked.”

“This is the 730th time I have heard you say that. Yet somehow you keep finding a way out.” Gottfried remarked as he hung his coat up on the rack. His visor cap too. “So what’s the problem this time?” Gottfried asked as he sat down in front of Ulfric.

“What’s the problem? You wanna know what the problem is? The problem is that the conservatives are sidelining me! That the reformists are encouraging riots in the streets! That the militarists are whispering of staging a coup! That the SS are working behind my back! That’s what the problem is!” Ulfric ranted. Throwing his pen on the table and sending it flying to the other side of the room. Gottfried remained unscathed in his seat, like he barely noticed.

“Perhaps the conservatives are angry that you employ such liberal minds like Müller in your government.” Gottfried suggested as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He then wasted no time in lightening one of them up.

“Thank God you are here, Gottfried! How would I ever figure this out if not for you!” Ulfric exclaimed sarcastically, but with a bitter tone behind it.

“You need to calm the fuck down. You haven’t been sleeping, Ulfric. All that coffee is making you a wreck. Forcing your body to work when it needs rest.” Gottfried lectured.

“You turn into a fucking physician or something? Perhaps you would prefer being minister of healthcare? Lord knows we need one.” Ulfric as he pulled up a potential list of candidates for the position.

“Why not pick a militarist for that position. One less thing they’ll moan about, and they won’t be able to do shit.”

“No, we’ll get a good conservative to fill in those clown shoes. I hear Fihren’s been moaning about not having any work at the council meetings, might dump it on him, see how he likes not getting sleep.”

“You take away that lazy fuck’s sleep, and he’ll turn into the ape he looks like.”

“Colourful commentary, as always…” Ulfric said tiresomely. “But that’s not what I called you here for. I need suggestions, Gottfried, good men who can fill the ranks for me, men who have a spine, men who can think for themselves.”

“So you’re essentially telling me to find a needle in a field of haystacks.”

“It’s not as impossible as it sounds. Take a look through our armed forces, you could maybe find some ingenuitive minds in the Kriegsmarine or the Luftwaffe, perhaps some of Donitz’s and Göring’s mind was left in those cores.”

“I thought we agreed that the entire Wehrmacht was to remain apolitical. I won’t have my men start wearing suits and ties to boot camp. We defend the Reich. You pencil pushers decide who we are defending it from. The Japanese? The SARF? The remains of the Red Army? Or some Africans living in mudhuts.” Gottfried replied with a sharp tone in his voice. Ulfric knew this was something Gottfried was passionate about. Gottfried never cared much about politics, but you fuck with the army? You get his full wrath.

“I know… I know… But I’m desperately trying to pull together a government here. Most of the Reichstag refuses to work with me. Müller only agreed after I promised bigger economic reforms to the Reich…” Ulfric sighed.

“I know it’s tough. But I think you forget who you are. You are the goddamn Führer for crying out loud. We’ll make this work. I got the army, you got the influence and power. Countries have been kickstarted back up again with less. You play politics, I make sure no one else does. Then together we can face the SS menace when the home front has been secured.” Gottfried assured Ulfric.

“I don’t want a cabinet of loyal yes-men. I want minds, I want hearts, I want bodies. I want our Reich to have a soul again Gottfried, like the old days.”

“Hah! Sounding more like Bormann every second now.”

Ulfric opened up a drawer full of documents regarding reports of their annual net income. Records showing all the way back 10 years and with prediction of the Reich’s trajectory in the next 10 years.

“Our GDP is growing at 0.2 percent annually! 0.2 _percent_! How are we ever going to get forward in life with this hanging over our heads? At least Müller understands economics. To be honest, I actually think he might be the right choice. Radical, but not socialistic. Liberal, but not a reformer. He’s just the right type of extremist we need.”

“What about the militarists, how are you keeping them in check? I know my part in keeping them out of the Wehrmacht, but what about the Reichstag?” Gottfried asked.

“That’s what I have you for. The suits in the Reichstag may decorate themselves with fancy medals, but if you asked them what war they fought in, they’d probably say some random skirmish in the Sahara. You’ve been on the front lines, you’ve shown the soldiers you care-”

“Ulfric…” Gottfried interrupted the Führer, “... I told you, I’m not going into this political bullcrap.”

“And thankfully, you won’t have to. You just need to keep doing what you’ve been doing for the past twenty years, show the Army who the real man at the top is, and sway their loyalties to the point where going against you would be factional suicide. Not a single paper signed and you can do it all a thousand miles from Germania.”

The field marshal thought about it for a moment, and he could understand where Ulfric was coming from, it made sense, in his own sort of way. “So what? I just… convince everyone I’m the real leader of the Militarists?”

“Don’t convince, _show_ them. Walk around like you own the place, any big shot starts coming to you, you don’t salute, you wait for _them_ to greet _you_. And once some time has passed, people will notice I’m favoring you, if anything, they might just start going into your good graces for a chance to earn some recognition from me.”

“I don’t know Ulfric. You’re essentially asking me to start acting like those SS orangutans in Burgundy and the Baltics. Walking around like they own the place. I’m still a soldier, if boot camp has taught me anything it's always salute your superiors.”

“Good thing you never payed attention during drills then.”

“Heh, got a point there.” Gottfried chuckled. “What about those Technocrats? Not much you hear from them.”

“For some reason, they have picked up an interest in space travel. Which they haven’t been since the 1960’s. Funnily enough, I got a telegraph from my Netzram inbox. Does the name Alberta Elisa Hitler ring any bells?” Ulfric asked.

“Wait… A.E. Hitler, you’re right I have heard that. That one plane girl? From _the_ Hitler family line?” he could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Ever since the death of the first Führer, the Hitler family has more or less been deified by the German people, and for good reason. This surge in popularity was met with an enigmatic approach by most of Hitler’s relatives however, only in recent times have they begun resurfacing in the public consciousness. The main reason for that being the rumored “guinea pig” for the research division of experimental aircraft design of the Luftwaffe, Alberta Hitler.

“She was mighty impressed with my speech. So impressed that she even offered her services, should I ever need them. Though I don’t I’ll have her flying any of my planes anytime soon.”

“Why not? I heard she’s a pretty good flier all things considered.”

“Well she is, but she deals with experimental crafts, and experimental crafts tend to crash and burn. I’m surprised she’s still alive at this point, she’s been doing it for nearly a decade. Can’t imagine how she managed to convince the air research division to let her fly. Much less her own family.”

“You don’t say no to a Hitler. Doesn’t matter which one.”

“You’re right on that front at least.”

“But… That seems more like something short term. How are you going to win more favor with them than just having a good PR stunt in your pocket?” Gottfried asked in a confused manner.

“Remember what I said about space travel? They think they are onto something big. Our space endeavors ended when we reached Venus, and poor old Deathshead died. If I throw some money into the research of it… Then we’re golden.” Ulfric shared his knowledge.

“That could work...But it could also backfire if you fail. Cause then you just have a failed space program and a lot of time wasted.”

“That’s why it’s mostly token money. You know, send Luftwaffe astronauts out to survey Mars. Keep them entertained and the technocrats happy. That’s all I can think of in that regard.”

“Good… At least we have some sort of battleplan now... “ Gottfried looked up at the time. “Oh shit… I’m gonna be late home. Hanah is gonna kill me… Literally. Or make me sleep in the hen house.” Gottfried began hurrying towards his coat and visor cap. Wasting no time in getting dressed. “I’ll see you tomorrow Mein Führer.” Gottfried went off with as unprofessional of a Sieg Heil Ulfric had ever seen.

“Right, right. Heaven forbid you leave matters of state before your wife.” he muttered to himself once Gottfried was already firmly out of the room, not even closing the door on his way out.

He got up from his chair and closed the entrance to his office. “Right… you have a plan now.” it was a voice as hushed as the ones you would hear of children using to hide from their parents. “But that just leaves one question.” he went back to his financial reports. Müller was kind enough to format them all neatly and have them be as readable as possible, he never was good with numbers but charts and statistics he could understand more or less.

“How the hell am I going to fix you?”


	4. Chapter 4: And so it came to pass...

**22/1/2026  
  
Luftwaffe Space Center, The Cold hard surface of Mars…**  
  
“Would you put your goddamn feet down? You think these tables are made of stone or something?” Jacob demanded with a harsh tone as he forced his colleague’s feet off the table. “I’m trying to eat my lunch here!”  
  
“You always were sensitive, Jacob. I might as well get some rest before heading out on another run.” Thomas replied, trying to mimic an offended tone. “I really don’t get it. Why are they so interested in surveying Mars? Nothing but red sand here.”  
  
“We do whatever the Luftwaffe says we should do. That’s the terms of the contract.”  
  
“Sometimes I wished I just stayed behind on Earth and continued doing bombing runs on Africa…” Thomas remarked.  
  
“Even you must admit, zero gravity was funny for quite some time.” Jacob replied as he ate his soup, still hot from the fresh turn it had in the microwave.  
  
“For like the first few days, sure. If the pay wasn’t so good, then I would have bailed a long time ago.” Thomas said as he once again put his feet on the table.  
  
“Will you knock it off?” Jacob requested with his mouth full of soup, once again knocking Thomas’s feet off the table. Thomas sighed, clearly bored with the situation at hand. He had tried most of the tricks in the book to pass the time, but nearly all of them annoyed the living hell out of Jacob. Even throwing plastic spoons at him while he was sleeping was off the table.  
  
“I just think the Research departments should focus on getting us to new systems. Exploring new planets, discovering new plants, staking claims and perhaps even meeting aliens!” Thomas proclaimed. That was why he had joined up in the first place. A chance to see something new.  
  
“R&D will pick and choose based on what their funding and expertise allows. We probably won’t see exploration out of the solar system for another 50 years, that being said, I do believe that Mars holds many interes-”  
  
“ACHTUNG ACHTUNG! Unteroffizer Weber and Hautmann Becker, please report to the briefing room at once. Repeat: Unteroffizer Weber and Hautmann Becker, please report to the briefing room at once.” The base’s comm system cried out. They both looked confused up at it, and then confused at each other.  
  
“Looks like we have been summoned. Let’s get going.” Thomas said as he arose from his seat.  
  
“Fucking hell, I just warmed this up!” Jacob angrily exclaimed as he threw out the remainder of his soup in the bin. He then quickly ran after Thomas to catch up.  
  


* * *

  
  
 **Later that day…**  
  
“I sense a storm coming… Probably don’t have much more than a couple of hours before we have to turn back.” Jacob remarked as he looked out over the horizon. Seeing the dusty storm gathering in the distance. Mars was known for it, being unpredictable in it’s weather. One of the few things Jacob hated about it. He was used to being calculated in his nature.  
  
“Why thank you for the forecast, Mr. weatherman. How about we just get on with this so we can get home again? This suit is fucking uncomfortable.” Thomas bitterly replied as he drove their space rover forward towards their final cave of the day. The base leader stressed that his cave had puzzled the eggheads back on Earth, and they needed to search it extra carefully.  
  
“You really don’t belong in space, you know that right?” Jacob asked.  
  
“If by space you mean this shit, then yeah, I don’t belong at all.” Thomas was so looking forward to vacation time in three weeks' time.  
  
“You’re beaming with positivity today. I, for one, am looking forward to continuing this assignment. This will help us understand Mars much better, not to mention that- STOP!”  
  
Thomas slammed the brakes. Almost sending them flying out of the rover as it stopped. As the dust settled around them, Thomas turned to face Jacob. “What the fuck was that?!” He demanded to know.  
  
“We’re here! The cave!” He pointed over to a small rock formation to the west.  
  
“I thought we were still miles out.” Thomas pointed out with a confused tone in his voice.  
  
“Apparently not. That’s it!” Jacob said as he jumped out of the rover. “You coming?” He asked as he grabbed their scanning equipment.  
  
“Guess I am.” He muttered as he jumped out of the rover as well. Following closely behind Jacob. As they got closer to the dark cave, they turned on their flashlights. They looked at each other, as if they were both unsure on how to proceed. They had done hundreds of caves like this one, yet this cave felt different. Like something was calling to them.  
  
“No putting it off.” Jacob said as he took the first steps into the cave, which seemed weirdly formed. It was like it had been formed by something other than nature.  
  
“Did you hear about what the Führer is doing? With getting rid of state atheism?” Thomas asked as he followed closely behind, never letting his partner out of sight.  
  
“I heard, yes.” Jacob simply replied, as if he was uninterested in taking part in the conversation.  
  
“That’s like pissing on Hitler’s grave. Can’t believe they are letting him do it.” Thomas remarked with a sigh. He wasn’t that much into the politics of the Reich, but he always considered himself a conservative to the bone.  
  
“It’s nothing new though, remember what the last Bormann Führer tried to do? Man nearly started having state-legislated orgies. I’ll never understand high-commands fascination with pagan degeneracy.”  
  
“I see you haven’t let go of your catholic roots yet. You will forever remain an Austrian.” Thomas muttered, and he hoped Jacob didn’t pick up on it.  
  
“Our first Führer was one, why shouldn’t I be proud.”  
  
“You’re lucky we’re on Mars right now, or Hitler’s ghost would have smacked you upside the head right about now, and then sent you to the shooting range as a fresh target.” Thomas fired back.  
  
“Listen here you fuckin-” Just as Jacob was about to deliver an ass whooping, something cracked beneath his feet. He looked down, before he could even analyze the situation, the cave floor gave way. He fell, and he wasn’t so proud as to not admit a yelp escaped him. He must have fallen several feet, and whatever he landed on was hard, harder than the normal Mars rock.  
  
“Fucking hell! JACOB! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!” Thomas yelled as he stormed towards the hole and looked down, trying desperately to locate his friend in the pitch black darkness.  
  
“I’m-” Jacob groaned as he sat up, quickly checking for any raptures in his space suit. “I’m fine... Can you get me up?” He asked as he stood back up, trying to stretch out his back, which hurt like hell.  
  
“I’ll get the ladder in the rover. Hang on!” Thomas yelled back down to his friend. Jacob tried to get his bearings in the new location. First thing he noticed was that he was right regarding the floor. It was made of metal. It seemed to be a sort of catwalk. “The fuck?” He said to himself. He followed the catwalk along, curiosity getting the better of him.  
  
He didn’t have to walk very far before he was greeted with the sight of what appeared to be some sort of control room. At first he expected that this was some sort of test facility that had since been abandoned by the Reich. Upon further inspection however, it was clear that nothing their nation had thought of in the last 50 years could come close to replicating this sort of technology. Not even in their wildest fantasies.  
  
A terminal of some sort lied in front of him, yet there were no buttons, levers or switches, everything was purely holographic, like something out of one of those sci-fi movies. There were symbols on what he could only assume was the keyboard for the thing, yet none of them he could even closely recognize as being akin to any human alphabet. If he had to make a guess, it seemed like some weird mix of the degenerate alphabets of Russian and Hebrew.  
  
“What’s up?” Thomas asked, which scared the living daylight out of Jacob. “You alright?” Thomas said as he tried to keep Jacob was falling down on the ground again.  
  
“Yeah… Yeah.. I’m good.” Jacob said as he tried to catch his breath again. “Don’t ever sneak up on me like that again though.” Jacob ordered.  
  
“As you wish… You looked hypnotized or something like that. What is on the computer?” Thomas asked confused as he tried to peak over Jacob’s shoulder.  
  
“I don’t know… It’s so… Foreign….” Jacob said as his mind raced at a hundred miles a second trying to figure out what was going on. He didn’t touch anything, fearing what might happen if he did so. They needed to get a hold of the base Commander as soon as possible. He checked his comms, but his signal was blocked.  
  
“I wonder what this button will do.” Thomas said as he reached forward and pressed a button.  
  
“No don’t!” Before Jacob could stop him, Thomas pressed the button. And then the entire place lit up like a Christmas tree. They looked around, completely puzzled at what had just happened. The shutters that were on the window pulled up, revealing several ships of unknown origin, and even more unknown technology. “Thomas?” Jacob asked after several minutes of silence.  
  
“Yeah?” Thomas asked as he swallowed a lump in his throat.  
  
“I think you finally found that big discovery you wanted…” Jacob simply replied. They didn’t say anything else… They just stared at what was before them.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
 **23/1/2026  
  
Ulfric’s office, Reichskanzlei, Germania.**  
  
The ticking of the clock was driving the SS- Reichführer mad. Ulfric was just sitting there, silently writing on a piece of paper. Like he hadn’t even noticed that one of the most important men in the Reich was sitting before him, and Ulfric had the nerve to act as if he wasn’t even there.  
  
More annoying than that, the chief of the Army, Gottfried Krüger. A man he despised even more than Ulfric, and that was saying something. While Ulfric wasn’t paying him much attention, Gottfried was. Leaning on the window frame was smoking a cigarette. The Reichsführer felt as though the entire Wehrmacht was staring him down. Watching his every move, just waiting for a reason to attack.  
  
Finally, Ulfric put his pen down. He slowly looked up at the Reichsführer. “So glad you could make it, Hans. Hope your flight from Ost-paris was comfortable.” Ulfric said.  
  
“Can’t complain. From Ost-Paris to Germania in 15 minutes isn’t too bad. The Reich has come a long way in Aeroplane- and Jet technology.” Hans tried to smile, but it was hard to get the disgust of his face.  
  
“That we have. And we keep getting better with each passing day.” Ulfric replied, with what seemed like a mocking tone in his voice. “But let us get straight down to business. Do you know why I called you here?” Ulfric asked as he leaned forward in his seat, resting his forearms on the table.  
  
“I can make a qualified guess.”  
  
“Then guess.”  
  
“I assume you are displeased with how the SS operates the German Reichsprotektorats of Burgundy and Ostland.” Hans guessed.  
  
“That is one of the points I wanted to discuss here today, among many other things. I gathered you haven’t been much in touch with the other Führers throughout your years of service.” Ulfric observed, and he had the records to prove it. Most Führers had one meeting with the SS-Reichsführer, and that was it. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he too could make a qualified guess.  
  
“Yes. Most of our previous Führer did not feel the need to constantly look over the SS’ shoulder. We know what we must do, and we do it. Everyone should know that we work towards the betterment of the Reich and the Aryan people.” Hans explained.  
  
“And that is all well and good, my dear Hans.” Ulfric poured himself a glass of water. “But you see, the good of the Aryan people is currently at risk. Perhaps you might not have seen it from that Ivory tower of yours in Ost Paris.”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
“You are excused.” Gottfried jumped in and said.  
  
“Yes, I am displeased with how the SS operates. Both within Greater Germany and outside of it. This-” Ulfric picked up a folder and raised it so Hans could see it. “Is what I’m talking about.” Ulfric said as he threw the folder to Hans, who barely managed to grab it in time. Hans slowly opened up the folder to see pictures, operation names, lists of agents and everything else that he had been working on for the last few months. “You seem to forget that the SS was created to serve the Führer, not the other way around!” Ulfric’s voice was raising in both anger and volume, but he managed to contain it before he would alert the entire Reichskanzlei to their disagreements.  
  
Hans remained cool. It wasn’t like this was the first time a Führer thought they could swoop in and start changing their operations. “Is that really all you have? A shame, mein Fuhrer, I thought you a smarter man.”  
  
“Careful now Hansie boy.” Gottfried put a hand on the SS man's shoulder. “You’re not in Paris anymore.”  
  
“Might I ask why Field Marshal Kürger is here? He doesn’t seem very relevant to our conversation.” Hans asked in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone. Like a goblin who discovered a golden piece of information.  
  
“Field Marshal Kürger is here to voice his own concerns. Of which there are plenty.” Ulfric lazily informed him.  
  
“Such as why in the fuck my men aren’t allowed within Burgundy’s borders.” he cut straight to the point, tightening his grip on the SS-Führer.  
  
“As you know, Burgundy and Ostland has been an SS concern since 1956, and we have always had special privileges compared to other Reichsprotektorats. This was dictated by our great Führer, Adolf Hitler.” Hans replied with an almost evil smile that only the SS seemed to have mastered.  
  
“That is all well and good Hans, however if you have not noticed you are not Heinrich Himmler and I am not Adolf Hitler, times have changed, and so too, I hope, has the SS.” Ulfric said.  
  
“Ah, Mein Führer, I believe that is the problem we are currently facing.” the SS Führer managed to wriggle himself out of the Marshall’s grip and leaned closer towards Ulfric. “We haven’t changed, have we? We’re more or less the only part of the Reich that hasn’t changed.”  
  
He was clear on the implications Hans was making, but Ulfric wasn’t too keen on playing this rats game. “And I assume you wish to tell me that _we_ are the problem then? That is quite… unbecoming, of a member of the National Socialist High Command.”  
  
“I might just have to write a report on that, don’t you think Mein Führer.” Gottfried asked with a slight wink.  
  
“Yes Gottfried, I think you just might.” Ulfric replied.  
  
Hans smiled once more, Ulfric was glad at least someone was getting some entertainment from this. “You are a clever man, Mein Führer. Clever Führers do not last long in this great nation of ours.”  
  
“Is that a threat?” Gottfried asked, taking a step towards the SS Reichsführer.  
  
“A kind word of warning if you will, from someone who has lived in Paris all my life, trust me when I tell you that intelligence and self-determination is something most would frown upon, and others would shoot you for.”  
  
“Like my good friend said Hans, we’re not in Paris.”  
  
“No, we are not.”  
  
The room had gone silent for a moment. Ulfric and Hans stared each other down, waiting for one or the other to make a move. Gottfried himself looked like he was ready to pull out his gun and just shoot the bastard right then and there.  
  
“If you feel so inclined mein Führer, you are more than welcome to come to Ost-paris on an official state visit. I’ll make sure to have the Waffen SS bring out the Panzers for a glorious parade, it will be like 1940 all over again. But I must ask that the Wehrmacht keep themselves in Germany. I’ll send them a new pack of playing cards to keep them entertained in the meantime.”  
  
“Watch your tongue. You’re on thin fucking ice here you goddamn Burgundian.” Gottfried almost growled.  
  
“Seems like I struck a nerve.” Hans smiled again, and Ulfric was sure Gottfried would kill him right then and there. But luckily even Gottfried knew they couldn’t afford an SS rebellion, or coup.  
  
“I’ll be sure to consider your gracious offer, I have been wanting for a vacation for some time now.”  
  
“Indeed, I can see it on your face mein Führer. Do be careful, stress is the enemy of beauty after all.”  
  
“Beauty is not exactly what I was going for but yes, I suppose you are right. Now if there is nothing else you wish to discuss.” he got up from his chair at the same time as the SS-Führer. “I have several Zollverein meetings I must attend to.”  
  
“Naturally, I shall not keep the German people waiting.”  
  
“Good. Then you are dismissed.”  
  
As Hans began walking towards the door, and he put on his coat, he turned back for a second, looking Ulfric straight in the eyes. “One final thing to note, Mein Führer. The SS swears loyalty to both the Führer and the Aryan race. We will choose accordingly who needs our service the most. Heil Germania.” Hans gave a Sieg Heil as he left the door.  
  
“I fucking hate that guy.” Gottfried wanted to spit on the floor, as if even mentioning the guy was a curse upon his family. “Another thing, don’t you fucking dare go to Paris. You’re essentially giving them the A-okay to put a bullet in your ass and out your head.”  
  
“I know, and I have no intentions of going there. The only boots that will be touching Burgundy soil is that of the Wehrmacht when we finally go in and get rid of him… Sadly not any time soon.”  
  
“The SS are still a major fucking threat. You have most of the Reichstag on your side, the Wehrmacht stands ready at your command. If you stall any further, then I fear it will only be harder to go through with it.” Gottfried advised.  
  
“Now is not the time. We have much bigger things to worry about, like-”  
  
“MEIN FÜHRER!” The doors burst open. His defense minister almost collapsed onto the floor, he looked like he had just run straight from Vienna to get here. “MEIN FÜHRER URGENT NEWS!”  
  
“What is it now Mr. Meyer? Have the Austrians started their uprising again?” Ulfric laughed.  
  
“NO MEIN FÜHRER.” Zorren Meyer said through batted breaths. “MARS!”  
  
“What the hell are you on about man, breathe damn you!” Gottfried ordered.  
  
“Mars… aliens… technology… mars…”  
  
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING?! WHAT’S ON MARS, SPIT IT OUT?!” he slammed the defense minister against the wall.  
  
“The-.. the Luftwaffe… The Luftwaffe-”  
  
Gottfried slapped him across the cheek a few times.  
  
“The Luftwaffe astronauts found something! Inside the Mars caves! Alien technology! ALIEN!”  
  
“Oh….” Gottfried said, before he turned to Ulfric.  
  
“Well… That certainly is news…” Ulfric said. “Never thought I’d get to meet Martin the Martian.”


	5. Chapter 5: The Dawn Of A New Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey Guys!  
> Thanks for all the comments you leave! It's great to see people are interested in the story.
> 
> Just wanted to let people know that I have an deviantart page where I post commissions I order every now and then. You can find it: KanisRussell User Profile | DeviantArt  
> I'm also part of a discord server for writers and reader, and general goofing around. If anyone wants to come join me there, hit me up and I'll send a link.
> 
> That's all for now. Enjoy the chapter.
> 
> Kind regards
> 
> KanisRussell.

**24/1/2026**

  
  


**Meeting room, Reichskanzlei, Germania.**

  
  


It was like being back in the Reichstag. The different ministers, and a few high ranking party officials gathered within a relatively small room. Shouting at each other. It was at times like these that Ulfric wanted to be the first Führer to resign from Office. Just throw in the towel, just be done with it. But he couldn’t. Despite how much he hated being at the center of it all, he had come to realize that he could only help repair the Reich if he was at the head.

  
  


“Of course martial law should be established! The people will panic as soon as the word hits the streets! We need to be ready to contain the situation!” The minister of the interior, Afred Schröder, demanded. He was a hardline conservative, one of the aging old guards.

  
  


“What the hell are you on about? We can’t just limit the movement of our people like that! They have done nothing wrong! You think our people are common sheep, Herr Schröder?” The minister of finance fired back. Müller was not happy about this at all. If martial law was declared, then all his ideas for reforms could be rolled back without a second thought.

  
  


“Of course not! But let us not forget that the goddamn hippies and students love to protest whenever they damn well please! We can’t afford civil unrest, not now!” Schröder did speak some truth. The protests were a common problem for Ulfric, but it was more of a headache than a deal breaker.

  
  


“Calm down, both of you! No martial law will be declared just yet. Not until we know what we are dealing with.” Ulfric ordered. Both of them reluctantly backed down, for now. There was a moment of silence as Ulfric thought about the situation for a second. “From the top, what do we know, Waldo?” Ulfric turned and asked. Waldo Beitel had been appointed the main minister of education and science within the Reich. Former rival to Ulfric, but now they enjoyed a better relationship.

  
  


Waldo sighed and reached for his bottle of water. He took a big sip, he must have felt nervous with all eyes on him. He put the bottle back down, wiped his mouth and cleared his throat. “The base predates our Reich… In fact, from what we can gather from the short amount of research we have done, it predates even the Roman Empire. Nothing has happened there for at least 10.000 years, probably a lot longer than that.” Waldo explained.

  
  


“So it’s very old. Got it. What else?” Ulfric asked, digging for better answers.

  
  


“The technology is unlike anything we have ever seen before, including those bases we raided back during the war. I’d say we have found the remnants of an ancient space faring alien species.”

  
  


“How advanced are we talking here?”

  
  


“Beyond anything we could ever hoped to achieve within the next 1000 years, Mein Führer.” Waldo replied, his tone serious to showcase he wasn’t joking around. Ulfric leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly.

  
  


“So what is this technology? What can we do with it?” he asked as he took another sip of his coffee.

  
  


“For now, nothing. All of the artifacts and framework for data seems to be locked behind dozens of firewalls, failsafes, or some type of code that will require cracking. However, we already have our top minds working on the case… I can’t promise any confirmed dates, but I’d imagine we will have made some headway before Christmas… That is of course, if our budget is increased.”

  
  


“Granted.” he said, ‘ _Always with the damn budget.’_

  
  


“We cracked the Turing code in 3 weeks during the war, you’re telling me it’s going to take you and your pansy ass spectacle wearers a whole year to access this thing?”

  
  


“Herr Schröder, please no swearing in the meeting room.” Ulfric requested. He felt his headache rising again.

  
  


“Of course mein Führer. Sorry.” He spoke as if he was a child that had been scolded.

  
  


“It has only been a few days since we discovered these ruins. This technology is so advanced, their vessels don’t even run on fuel! Can you believe it? Fascinating stuff, Mein Führer.”

  
  


“What do they use instead? Piss from the Wehrmacht?” Schröder asked, which earned a few laughs from the other conservatives.

  
  


“We haven’t quite figured it out yet… But we suspect it’s far more powerful than anything we have on Earth. We’ll have to do more tests.” Waldo once again fished for that extra funding for his research, and while Ulfric would usually be hesitant to grant it, these were in fact extraordinary times.

  
  


“You’ll get your funding, and I’ll attach more researchers to your project. The university of Germania will be helping you, the finest minds in Germania working towards getting this done… In fact… Herr Weber, call up the apes in Burgundy, they can still be of some use to us after all…” Ulfric ordered.

  
  


“Right away, mein Fuhrer.” Weber went to make the call but stopped himself for a moment. “Um… what do I do if Burgundy declines, mein Fuhrer?”

  
  


“They won’t.”

  
  


“What are you doing mein Führer? You can’t involve the SS! You know they will demand more say in German politics!” Reinhard Müller asked, concerned at what might happen.

  
  


“I can control the SS if we only give token promises. But their researches are second to none in some areas. Besides, if they want to influence us and our course so badly then perhaps giving them some token positions in this brave new race will calm their worries.”

  
  


“I really don’t believe it’s a good idea, Mein Führer. You have to consider that-”

  
  


“I’m pulling the Führer card here, Müller. The decision is final.”

  
  


“Understood…” the minister of finance said dejectedly.

  
  


“That being said, we have to move forward with the economic reforms now. It is high time to begin kick-starting the german economy again. Herr Weber, schedule a meeting next week for me and Herr Müller. We have much work to do.”

  
  


“Of course Mein Führer. I’ll do it at once.” Herr Weber replied with a smile as he made a note on his notepad to remind him later.

  
  


“Herr Krause, I want you to keep a lid on all of this. At least until we can get it fully under control. Show the people that it’s business as usual. I’ll grant some more money for propaganda runs.” Ulfric turned to the minister of Information in the Reich.

  
  


“Nothing to see, nothing to hear, nothing to speak. Understood.”

  
  


“While we are at it, Herr Weber. Call up the Chiefs of the Army, Navy and Airforce as well. We have a lot to discuss. Especially if we’ll have more SS troops on German soil… And aliens to deal with… “ Ulfric once again ordered.

  
  


“Jawohl Mein Führer.” Weber replied.

  
  


“Anything else?” Ulfric asked. None spoke up, all of them just looking at him. “Good, then the meeting is over.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


**Later that day…**

  
  


**Ulfrics office, Reichskanzlei, Germania.**

  
  


“Let’s go, smokes.” Ulfric demanded as he held his hand out.

  
  


“I thought you didn’t smoke.” Gottfried raised his eyebrow behind his sunglasses, sometimes Gottfried looked like a young Schörner in his uniform.

  
  


“I don’t. But right now I need a fucking cigarette, and I know you still smoke those good ones from the Netherlands. Those with high nicotine.”

  
  


“Actually I smoke Prince now. A good brand.”

  
  


“Prince? They fucking suck.”

  
  


“Do you want a smoke or not?” Gottfried asked, Ulfric sighed and held his hand out once more as he accepted the cigarette. He all but ripped the flip lighter out of Gottfried’s hand to give some light to his cigarette.

  
  


He inhaled deeply. Enjoying the rush of nicotine in his blood. “Oh yeah… That’s just what I needed.” Ulfric remarked as he took another drag of the cigarette and sat down in the chair.

  
  


“Wouldn’t a brandy go well with the cigarette? I think the previous Führer kept a bottle in here somewhere.” Gottfried suggested as he began looking around.

  
  


“That bottle is long gone, just like my sleep schedule… Why the fuck did you have to make me Führer? I was perfectly content where I was.”

  
  


“Why do you keep thinking I made you Führer?” Gottfried asked.

  
  


“Who else? It’s not like those bastards in suits would ever pick someone like me to lead.”

“True enough, doesn’t change the fact I wasn’t the one who made you Fuhrer. All I did was to make sure the Wehrmacht stayed out of politics.”

  
  


“I will break your nose.”

  
  


“Like I said Ulfric, it wasn’t me.” He sat down on the chair opposite to Ulfric. “You have to admit though, the pin looks nice on you. Had you not smashed the damn thing it would have gone nicely with the marshall’s scepter.”

  
  


“Don’t patronize me, leave that job to your wife.”

  
  


“So, how did the meeting go? Did you meet Martin the Martian yet?”

  
  


“I wish, but it’s still the same crusty old loaves of bread in suits that sit in those chairs every time. At least if Martin was there I’d have something to laugh at.”

  
  


“Our Martin, or the Martian?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“Nice. But that being said, what really happened on Mars? I’m intrigued to say the least.”

  
  


“Fat Waldo says it’s ancient. Predates even the Roman Empire, and its far more technologically superior than Da’at Yichud bases we raided way back when.”

  
  


“We allowed to call them superior now?”

  
  


“I’ll make an exception. Though at this point we went above and beyond anything in those bases thanks to Deathshead. And thanks to these new findings, we may have just kick-started a brand new project for space travel.”

  
  


“It’s funny.” Gottfried clasped his hands together and leaned back on the chair he was sitting in. “We always claim that our nation was founded on the basis of pure superiority, yet it was through the works and dealings of others that we managed to achieve such superiority...”

  
  


“That I won’t allow. Every project or work in human history has required some base to go off, and we took that base and used it to the Moon and above, while the Da’at just hid away in their little holes waiting to die.”

  
  


“Still, it makes you think.”

  
  


“Don’t play coy with me. You said it yourself, you don’t want any part in politics, but if you want to start this argument I hope you’re ready to find out what a sound defeat feels like.”

  
  


“Defeats is an inevitability Ulfric. You think Rommel or Manstein never faced failure during their careers?”

  
  


“Go down this road and you’ll end up more like MacArthur or Patton.”

  
  


Just as Gottfried was about to reply, there was a knock on the door. Ulfric called for whoever it was to enter. Not a second later the door opened and revealed Großadmiral Klaus Gerhardt. “Apologies for the delay, Mein Führer. I came as fast as I could from Kiel.” Klaus said as he came in, saluting both the Fuhrer and giving the Chief of Army a nod of notice.

  
  


“No need to apologize, Friend. But there are urgent matters to discuss.”

  
  


“Field Marshal Kürger, nice to see you again.”

  
  


“Same to you Gerhardt. Still sailing that old rust bucket you call a ship?”

  
  


“Only home I’ve ever known.” the two exchanged a hand shake.

  
  


“Now that introductions are out of the way, have a seat Großadmiral, we’ve much to discuss.” Ulfric waved his hand over to the two empty seats encircling a small coffee table.

  
  


“Of course, mein Führer.”

  
  


“As you know, Herr Gerhardt. I have called you here, alongside our dear Field Marshall and Chief of the Luftwaffe for an important meeting, one far too important for a simple phone call or report.”

  
  


“And I am glad for that mein Führer. Ever since the Atlantic Trade War, the Kriegsmarine has been greatly overlooked, which, in my eyes, is a tragedy unbecoming of our great Reich.”

  
  


‘ _I swear if he starts asking for a higher budget too I will shoot him and then myself.’_

  
  


“You did good on the Bismarck Sea Gerhardt, no one can take that away from you, but you have to admit, there’s little a navy can do during peacetime.”

  
  


“Poppycock! Who keeps the trade routes running, who kept the English and Americans at bay? Is it those damn SS in Paris? It’s our battleships, our carriers, our submarines that still patrol the coasts to this day. You may not be aware of this mein Fuhrer, but back in the day, my men and I were ordered to do scouting missions in Burgundy through the English channel, what other fleet was capable using *submarines* in the English channel?”

  
  


“And we are more than grateful for your contribution, as were all the Fuhrers you served under before me.” Ulfric assured him.

  
  


“A right tragedy it is.” the admiral sighed. “No member of high command should have to see their glorious leaders fade away like that, and neither should the German people. One after the other, all gone. It is why I was glad to hear our next Führer was someone so young.”

  
  


“I’m a right spring chicken.”

  
  


“Indeed. These old sailor’s bones have grown too used to the shore I’m afraid, but perhaps a Führer with a bit of spring in his step is just what we need.” The man’s optimism and fatherly face was almost poisonous, yet Ulfric could not help but feel complimented by his words.

  
  


All of a sudden the doors slammed open, giving a shock to all of the members currently in the office and interrupting the conversation. With an arrogant walk the Luftwaffe commander made his presence known as he entered the room. “Mein Fuhrer.” he saluted flamboyantly and without hesitation, a grin on his face the size of the Grand Canyon.

  
  


“Ah, the ghost of Hermann Göring arrives.” The admiral muttered.

  
  


“It is always a pleasure to see you as well, old sport.” the Luftmarshall said, striding confidently to shake everyone’s hands.

  
  


This would be the first time Ulfric would actually meet the Chief of Air in person. They had always spoken to each other shortly over the phone before. What did not help was the fact that their new Chief was also one who was recently promoted since the passing of the old Luftmarshall. A brazzen man, confident and bold, the title Admiral Gerhardt gave him seemed far more appropriate now that he could see the man in the flesh.

  
  


“Herr Stroman, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance in the flesh.”

  
  


“The pleasure is all mine, mein Fuhrer. I would have made it here sooner, but unfortunately my plane decided to overheat right over Frankfurt, so I had to take a train the rest of the way.”

  
  


“Overheat?”

  
  


“Jet engines are fickle that way, like a woman’s nerves I like to think.”

  
  


“You can say that again.” Gottfried raised a glass to the Chief’s words.

  
  


“Now that we are all gathered here, I think we can begin the meeting now. Gentlemen, we are at a crossroads.” He waited until all chiefs of staff were seated to lay the news on them, well, at least two of them. “Alien artifacts have been recovered from Mars.”

  
  


“Mein gott!” the admiral said with bated breath. “More Da’at Yichud artifacts? Do these judeo scum have no holes left to hide on Earth so they flee to Mars?”

  
  


“Unfortunately Großadmiral, these are no Judaic artifacts, so there will be no carpet bombing on Mars.”

  
  


“Damn, I was looking forward to that.” Siegfried joked. “However, if I am understanding you correctly, mein Führer, then that means we have just hit the metaphorical jackpot in terms of research opportunities. I’m sure my wife will be very happy to hear she’ll be getting new planes to fly very soon.”

  
  


“Unfortunately Luftmarshall I shall have to disappoint both you and Alberta, so far we have found no aircrafts within the Mars artifacts.”

  
  


“Shame, looks like I’m sleeping on the couch again.”

  
  


“Oh she does that to you too?” Gottfried asked.

  
  


“Too many times.” Siegfried replied with a smile.

  
  


“We’re getting off track here, Gentlemen. Focus.” Ulfric snapped his fingers. “The sole reason I wanted to gather you all here, is because we need to start thinking outside the box.”

  
  


“What do you mean mein Führer?” the Admiral asked, it seems his old military days are coming back to him as the conversation between the four has perked up.

  
  


“Thinking outside the box is the Luftwaffe’s job, whatever you ask of us, we shall do.” Siegfried assured the Führer.

  
  


“Yeah, yeah talk all you want boy we’re still the ones who took Moscow.” Gottfried fired back.

  
  


“After we reduced it to rubble, you’re welcome by the way.”

  
  


“I will slap you upside the head right now.”

  
  


“Gentlemen, please, this is not a kindergarten.” Ulfric reminded them. It was hard playing the adult during these meetings, it drained all the energy right out of him.

  
  


“Could have fooled me.” the Admiral grumbled. “I remember the times when the minimal age of entering the army was 18 at the least.”

  
  


“Enough, all of you.” Ulfric nearly began shutting, he had to deal with these things with the weekly economic meetings, he wasn’t going to deal with the same shit now.

  
  


“Alright, mein Führer.” Gottfried said with hesitation in his voice, it was clear uttering such a phrase was as foreign as English to him. “What do you wish of us?”

  
  


“Essentially.” Ulfric took his seat and clasped his hands together. “I want you three to invent me a new doctrine of warfare.”

  
  


“What?” All three said in unison, perfectly monotone. Even Gottfried seemed confused at his words.

  
  


“This news of alien machinery, technology far superior than anything we’ve seen before. The leaks of this could cause either great panic or great celebration within our Reich, and great fear in nations not affiliated with us. I think you all know who I am talking about.”

  
  


“The Japs will be quaking in their boots, if their spies haven’t already told them about it.” Admiral Gerhardt therorized.

  
  


“So that’s it? Just… _invent_ a new form of warfare?” Gottfried was perhaps the most confused Ulfric had ever seen him.

  
  


“We did it once before didn’t we?” Ulfric asked simply.

  
  


“And we’ll damn well do it again!” Siegfried slapped his knees and almost jumped from his chair in excitement. “Mein Führer, you have my word. Come Christmas, we’ll be adding a whole new dimension to warfare.”

  
  


“No.” Siegfried’s optimism was quickly shut down by the Fuhrer. “Not by Christmas, I want it done by next week.”

  
  


That was the point when Gottfried became the one to actually jump out of his seat, hands in the air and shouting. “BY NEXT FUCKING WEEK HE SAYS!”

  
  


“For heaven's sake Kürger, have some self-restraint man.” the admiral turned back to the Führer. “Have no fear Mein Führer, I’m sure with our minds combined we can come up with more than suitable results.”

  
  


“Of that I have no doubt Gerhardt, though if what I am planning is to succeed, then these results will not have to be suitable, but excellent in every way.”

  
  


“As expected of our great people.” the Admiral commended.

  
  


“YEAH YOU WANT ME TO CALL UP THE ANGEL GABRIEL FROM HEAVEN AND HAVE HIM PULL EXCALIBUR FROM MY ASS AS WELL?! HOW ABOUT I SUMMON THE SECOND COMING WHILE I’M AT IT?!”

  
  


“That’s enough Kürger! You’re disgracing your uniform!” this time it was Siegfried who came in between the two.

  
  


“I WILL TURN THAT HEAD OF YOURS RIGHT AROUND LIKE AN OWL RIGHT NOW, YOU’LL BE SEEIN’ STARS FASTER THAN OUR SPACE PROGRAM KID!”

  
  


“Don’t worry, he gets like this sometimes.” Ulfric went and pulled out the special case of Brandy he kept in these situations. “Here, gentlemen, to a brighter future.”

  
  


“To my fuckin ass.” Gottfried muttered

  
  


“What the Führer said.”

  
  


“Not quite the toast I imagined for such an occasion, but it will have to do.”

The four clinked their glasses together in a harmonized noise. In one week, the announcement would come, and all of Germany, and the world, would be given official reports that life outside of Earth exists.

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6: Heil dem Führer, den großen Forscher!

**1th of February 2026, White House, Washington D.C, Reichsland Nordamerika.**

It was early in the morning in the capital of the Reichsland. Early enough that the sun had not yet risen, the ground was covered in frost and there was mist in the air. The president was in the oval office, pondering on how much he missed his home state at that very moment. 

Lucas Davis, known to most Americans as “Lucky Luke”, was a Texan to the bone. Born and raised on a Ranch, ended up becoming an officer of the law, before putting that aside to make headway in politics. He had done it to be a nuisance to the president back then. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would be sitting here, in the oval office, staring at the portrait of the first president, George Washington. He never really understood why the Reich had granted the Americans this small type of democracy, a chance to pick their own leader, and he especially didn’t understand why the Reich had allowed him, of all people, to be the leader. 

It was one of those mysteries he had never really quite solved, but for now he didn’t complain. His job was to ensure that Nordamerika stayed as independent of the Reich as possible. But he wasn’t an idiot, he knew that if he went too far, the Reich would come in to restore order, and Nordamerika would be back to square one. 

As the president sat back in his chair, he stood quietly alongside his chiefs of foreign and internal affairs alongside his secretary, bringing in reports from the director of official intelligence. His secretary was laying out the context, going on about a long list of different stuff that had happened across the pond. “Just get to the point.” Luke demanded rubbing his temples.

The secretary stopped and looked at Luke, his expression showed minor offense to that statement. “As you wish, sir. From what our minister of information said, something big is going on in Germania, their armies have been moved to DEFCON 3, something we haven’t seen in a long time.” 

“Are we really listening to what that fucking Chink has to say? I have said it before and I will say it again, he is probably planting false information for his little Emperor to have us chase our own goddamn tail!” Charles Clark, the minister of the interior, warned them. His Southern drawl being far from unnoticeable.

“Steve’s fine, he’s loyal, and a good man. Far better than any man from California I’ve ever known. You can’t fault him for having grandparents that were Japanese.” Luke dismissed him.

“Oh we can’t? You think that logic would have worked in the Reich 80 years ago?” Charles asked, really trying to put the screws to him. It was at times like these that Luke wanted to fire him, but that would upset the balance of power too much for the Reich. 

“Enough, Charles.” Luke commanded, and surprisingly, the minister of the interior seemed to obey. That was one less headache he had to worry about. 

“Please, continue Jamie.” Luke requested. His secretary cleared his throat. 

“We believe it is possible the Reich is gearing up for war, either that or something has put them on high alert. No terrorist activities have been recorded over the last month, and Japan has been doing business as usual, nothing seems out of the ordinary. If I may speak freely, sir.” 

“Go ahead Jamie.” Luke granted. 

“I think there will be an announcement soon. Probably a policy that will be unpopular or something like that, it seems that the defense readiness was heightened to be prepared for any potential backlash… At least that is my personal opinion, one I share with the minister of information.” Jamie theorized, there was silence in the room for a few seconds as all of them chewed on the words. 

“Maybe you’re right, honestly I don’t see why they wouldn’t call us up and tell us what is going on. How the hell are we supposed to be good _‘subjects’_ if they keep turning a blind eye to our needs? You know, in times like these I really understand the plight of the common American and if I could do whatever I wanted, I would-” 

“Mr. President!” The minister of information stormed into the oval office, interrupted the conversation. 

“Steve? What’s going on?” Luke asked in a concerned tone. It had been a while since he had seen the minister of information so worked up. 

“The Führer is live on the TV! They say there will be a big announcement!” Steve said. All of them quickly got out of their chairs and followed Steve down to the big meeting room.

The room was already filled to the brim with White House staff, from the desk jockeys to coffee bringers. Still, they all made room for the president as he approached the front row to see the announcement. The announcement was yet to begin, a static screen with a countdown and a phrase of German saying  _“Die Ankündigung wird in Kürze beginnen”_ , which everyone knew what it meant. They prepared themselves for what was to come. Some probably wondered if this was it, the declaration of war against Japan, a new trade rivalry with the South Americans, or worse comes to shove, a war with Burgundy. Either way, the nations of the world held their breath.

‘ _All gone…’_ that was what the world would be should the nuclear option ever occur, and every man, woman and child was well aware of this. It was the world’s worst kept secret that practically every nation since the 60’s had been building bunkers, some even before that. 

A dead silence washed over the room as all chatter stopped. It had been a long time since the White House had witnessed such quiet in its halls. No matter how big and mighty America felt at any given moment, they would always be in the shadow of the Reich. The Home of the Brave, the Land of the Free, and the slaves of the German Eagle. 

Suddenly, the screen turned from the blank background to that of the Volkshalle in Germania. Thousands of German soldiers gathered within the giant building, standing at attention, waiting for their great Führer to address them. Neither the soldiers nor the politicians had to wait long.

He walked out with a chip in his step it would seem, the Führer wasted no time in climbing up to the podium. He was bathed in light from above, like the divines granted him an audience as well as the entire world. He gave a salute, one that was instantly greeted by chanting by the thousands of people in the Volkshalle, as well as the millions of souls outside of it. 

“ **HEIL GERMANIA!** ” Could be heard across the world, for the first time in a long time.

“Meine deutschen Kollegen.” the Führer spoke, and all the cries in the world became as silent as when they were sitting in expectation. Now, a new tension lied in the air, that of what their leader would be telling them, and what it would mean for all the nations of the Reich. “I have come before you today to deliver extraordinary news, and frankly, I think it best to not keep you all waiting any longer.”

Ever so slightly, Lucas stepped closer to the TV, as if it would make him understand the words better. His German had never been good, and he never really cared to improve it. Still, it was a requirement, and rare was the man today in modern North America who did not at least know it in passing.

“My fellow Germans, and all my fellow peoples of the Reich, we have officially discovered signs of life beyond Earth.”

Just as there had been silence before, some grasping could be heard here and there, whatever sounds quickly seemed to be torn away from them. There was a stillness, and unassured thought of doubt. What was he saying? Aliens had been discovered? No, merely signs of them.

“As you can see.” behind the Führer, a massive projection lit up, showing several images of strange ruins, clearly not on Earth. “On the surface of Mars and its ruinous caverns, our explorers have uncovered remarkable findings of a still yet unidentified species of extraterrestrial beings. While we are not sure if these ruins of an ancient colony, or merely a forward operating base for this mysterious species, I assure all of you that the German scientists have been working tirelessly to uncover all that we can from these technological giants. However…” another set of images began to be projected. “Our scientists are not the only ones who have been busy. For this occasion, I have called up our top chiefs of high Command, to start brainstorming how warfare in this new era will look like, so that the Reich shall be prepared to face any and all threats.” 

“Not a minute since the announcement and they already want us to start hating them. Clever.” Lucas mumbled. He was well aware of the Germans’ tactics of _‘The Common Enemy’_ , to be fair it worked in most cases, yet resulted in the decline of German-Japanese relations.

“Generalfeldmarschall Kürger, Großadmiral Gerhardt, and Luftmarshall Stroman have given me a rough draft of their combined efforts. Just as we invented an entirely new form of warfare in the Great War against Judeo-Bolshevism, we shall do so again. As our tanks once rode to Paris at blitzing speeds, so too will our new ships soar to the skies like never before.”

“And to that end, within the next few weeks, new economic reforms will be announced. Now is the time for economic revival, both within Germany, but also all members of the Einheitspakt. We will need it.” 

Lucas observed as the beige suited man addressed the crowd, each sentenced meat with uproarious applause. No doubt, Europe was setting itself on fire right now. Alien life had just been confirmed to exist, and the Reich had just gotten itself the scapegoat it needed to begin fueling the war machine. Yet here in the meeting room of the White House, the silence remained.

He put his hands in his pockets, twiddling the pen he put in his left one this morning, and cast his gaze around the room. Everything from shock, horror, amazement and caution was present. From the very back of the room, just shy of outside the main entrance, he spotted Stephen staring at the conference with a degree of surprise. Rarely were his intelligence reports wrong, especially about Germania, yet this time they were blown out the water in terms of scale.

‘ _They must have really not wanted this to come out.’_ he wondered how old this whole discovery truly was. Couldn’t have been more than a week at least, give or take a few days. Still, now was no time for contemplation.

“And it is with great excitement that I wish to announce a new program both I and the many members of the Reichskanzlei have been ready to implement. A volunteer space program, for all the men of the Reich to willingly participate and share in the glories of uncovering this bold new frontier.” though his words may have sounded charismatic coming from anyone else, the Führer was completely devoid of emotion in his tone. There was no script around that he could see, and he sure as hell wasn’t reading from a teleprompter. _‘I’ve seen Iowans with more personality.’_

“That is also why I will personally talk to all noteworthy leaders on Earth in the coming months to discuss the future. This is not just the Reich’s future, this is humanity’s future, and we will willingly accept all who wish to throw their lot in with the Glorious Reich. A new future in the stars are waiting for us.” there was a short moment of silence, Ulfric straightened himself out, and stared out over the crowd. 

“Vor uns liegt Deutschland, In uns Marschiert Deutschland, und hinter uns kommt Deutschland. Sieg Heil!” 

Martin, the speaker of the Reichstag, jumped in on the other microphone and led the chant. “Heil dem Führer, den großen Forscher!” The crowd deafened anything else after that. All of Germany must have been lighting up with the chant. 

“HEIL GERMANIA!” 

Even a few people in the meeting room were chanting with them all. Showing both relief and pride at what had just happened. Luke wasn’t chanting with them, if anything he was worried at what was going to happen now. Just as he was about to retire himself to the oval office, Jamie caught his attention. 

“Mr. President! Phone call from Germania in the Oval Office.” 

No rest for Lucky Luke it would seem. 

* * *

**20th of February 2026**

**Berghof, Bayern, Großgermanisches Reich**

Ulfric had been here 20 years ago, not much had changed since then. In fact, nothing had changed since Adolf Hitler passed away. The only reason dust hadn’t settled on everything in the room was due to the dozen or so maids who cleaned it pretty much every day. It was lost in time, stuck in the moment Hitler drew his last breath 62 years ago. 

Ulfric was walking around the room, killing some time before his guests would arrive. He had never been here alone and there was a weird atmosphere in the room, like someone was watching his every move, and judging him. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the portrait. A giant one, placed there long ago. Normally he wouldn’t think anything about it, he had seen the same portrait many times before, but this time it was different. 

The Portrait was staring him down, and Ulfric felt as though a sweat was developing. It was as if the first Führer himself was seizing him up, looking at his actions and deeds and sneering. It was surreal, like seeing him in person. One of the greatest men to have ever lived. The savior of Germany, the unifier of Europe, and the countless other things he managed to do in his lifetime. Ulfric would never reach such a level of greatness, he would never be like him. 

They had this stare contest for a little while. It was only at last that the door opened; finally there was an excuse to look away. Then he saw who it was, the guest of honor for the evening, Alberta Elisa Hitler. 

“Having a bit of a gaze at my dear Great Granduncle?” She asked, it wasn’t demanding or with anger, but with curiosity. He noticed that she wasn’t all that tall, maybe about 5’9 feet tall. Hazel Brown hair, and the same blue eyes as the first Führer. Her appearance was much more striking in real life than it was on any photo he had seen. She was pretty, for a lack of a better word. 

“There’s a saying in London I heard long ago, rude to stare too long, but dangerous to stare too little.” 

“I can imagine, those English never were too fond of socializing lest it be over a beer or tea and crumpets.”

“Do you see it too?” He pointed up at the Fuhrer’s face, his gaze relentless, cold and hard.

“I do, as does he see us. It’s a funny thing paintings do, make it feel as if you are actually seeing that person there in front of you.”

“I’m glad he’s not. I don’t know if I’d ever have the courage to look him in the eyes.”

“You wouldn’t be the first Führer to tell me that.”

“And I assume I’m not going to be the last.” although the two had exchanged messages from time to time, this would be the first time they met in person. The only reason they exchanged words with one another so casually now was only because business was best left behind closed doors, and Alberta seemed to have left their room wide open.

Still, formalities were in order, lest he offend the man staring down at them. “I believe introductions are in order, Frau Hitler.”

“Indeed, I’ve never had the pleasure to see you in person mein Führer.”

“Please, call me Ulfric.” he shook hands with the Führer’s great grandniece. It was weird; one could never tell she was related to the first Führer. 

“Alberta.”

“I hope you won’t mind if I continue to call you Frau Hitler, though you and I may be on good terms, there’s not much to gain from letting our soon-to-be guests know that.”

“By all means. Believe me, I’m used to it.”

“You know… I was curious about something, maybe you can clear it up... “ She nodded to show she was ready to answer whatever was on his heart. “Why do you fly planes? I mean, you have everything you ever needed. Even if coming from the Hitler family line wasn’t enough, you are also married to one of the most powerful men in the Reich. The Luftmarshall is no joke.” Ulfric asked. 

“It’s not about comfort, Ulfric. It’s about being alive. I don’t care about politics, never have.”

“Something the Reichskanzlei is very thankful for I’m sure.”

“Indeed, though everyone looks to me like some sort of useful tool. Having me endorse them is worth gold. I’m not interested in that. When I’m in the sky, flying, that’s when I’m happy. I can feel myself, not here nor in the Reichstag.” Alberta explained, and she looked far away as she thought about being up in the skies again. Ulfric swallowed a lump in his throat, this might not turn out as pretty as he had hoped. 

“I knew a man who spoke of flying with as much enthusiasm as you. Flew his first plane when he was only 8 with his father.”

“Then he had a good father. What happened to him?”

“Wanted to join the air academy after schooling. He died at 16, plane malfunction, only the father survived.”

“If that was meant as a warning, mein Führer. I’d advise against it. Trust me I have heard enough sob stories to direct a Turkish drama show.”

“It was not a warning, Alberta, merely a word of caution from someone who knows how hard it is to lose someone like that.”

“Believe me, I know far too well that pain.”

Just then a knock was heard on the door frame, one of his personal SS bodyguards came to announce the arrival of two more guests of honor, though realistically speaking one could argue they paled in comparison.

“Mein Führer, I would like to present Emilio Satorni of the Italian house of Parliament and Krešimir Bojislavić of the Ustaše Homeguard.” The guard announced as he stood at attention. He gave single sieg heil before leaving the room as quickly as he entered. 

“Gentlemen! It is an honor to finally meet you both.”

“The honor is all ours Signore Kuhn.” Satorni was the first to greet the Führer, exchanging a handshake between the two. With thick black glasses, a sharp green suit and balding head to match, he looked the prime example of every single Italian father from Milan and above.

“Indeed, it is not every day the Führer gives an announcement like that. We were practically trothing at the mouth to see who would get to you first.” Bojislavić was of a more formal and far disciplined breed than his italian counterpart, he greeted the Fuhrer with a salute, only standing at ease at Ulfric’s word. His military suit bore many medals, and Ulfric could only wonder how many partisans the man had to scalp to earn them all.

“The Croats and Italians have been our staunchest allies ever since the war, it would be remiss of not only me but the legacy our nation's share to not discuss further opportunities for this space program between our peoples.”

“And just like in the war we are ever at your disposal Poglavniče, it is like Barbarrosa all over again.”

“Indeed, please gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to another guest of honor I have with me. I believe you two might have already heard of her, Alberta Elisa Hitler.”

“Un piacere madame, a great honor.” Satorni gracefully greeted the flying ace.

“The honor is all mine, Signore.” she replied with equal grace, though her Italian was admirably rather rough.

“We have heard many stories of your exploits madame, you are an inspiration to pilots everywhere.”

“So I’ve heard. My husband and I visited your country on our honeymoon Herr Bojislavić, the coast of Dubrovnik is beautiful, as is the rest of your country.” Alberta smiled warmly. 

“Kind words madame, if ever you find yourself in Zagreb, there is an ace of ours who is more than willing to test your resolve in flying jets.”

“I certainly hope he likes paying for drinks then.”

“Now then, if greetings are out of the way, would any of you gentlemen care for a drink?” Ulfric came into the conversation once more, pulling out a bottle of white wine. “I hear in the Alps, alcohol is twice as potent.”

“Then it shall be drunk twice as much! Saluti!” Satorni grabbed one of the glasses Ulfric offered, as did Alberta.

“I am quite alright, one should never waste fine wine on the non-negotiable.”

“You don’t drink captain?”

“I’ve stopped it these past few years, my wife told me I’d be better off.”

“She’s a smart woman then, I’m still trying to convince my husband to stop smoking.”

“Don’t worry, he will eventually, the key to changing any man’s heart is to simply nag him until he gives in.”

“Words to live by amico.”

Just as they were about to perform a toast, his SS bodyguard opened the doors once more. He had nearly forgotten about one more guest. “Lucas Davis mein Führer, president of Reichslande Nordamerika.”

The president walked in with a swagger one hardly expected of a career politician, though from what he cared to read the American was anything but. It was like a scene from an old western, the lone outlaw walking into a saloon, only a saloon would most likely be filled with more reputable people.

“Ulfric Kohn I presume?” he looked at the Fuhrer with a curious gaze, as if he was more trying to confirm in his mind that it was truly the leader of Germania standing in front of him.

“Indeed, and you must be the lawman turned president I had heard so much about.”

“We got so many spies in each other's capitals I’d be hard pressed to hear we didn’t hear of one another.”

“True enough, welcome Herr Davis, we were just about to make a toast. Please, join us.”

“My pleasure.” Luke sauntered over to the other guests, gladly welcoming a drink. 

“Buongiorno Signore, Emilio.”

“Lucas, bongorno.”

“Krešimir.”

“Lucas. And who might you be ma’am?”

“This, my dear American friend is our guest of honor, Alberta Elise Hitler.”

“A pleasure.” Luke did a little bow. 

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Alberta once again smiled. 

“Now then, a toast, to the continued cooperation of our great nations.” Ulfric said as he raised his glass. 

“And to the eternal march of progress.” Alberta added as they all took a gulp from their glasses, though the president chugged it all down in one fell swoop.

“I see you make ‘em sweet here up in the Alps.”

“You’ll be rare to find better alcohol anywhere else.”

“I’m more a hard beer type of man.”

“I’ll be sure to keep note of that. Now, gentlemen, please, take a seat. There are matters that need to be discussed.” Ulfric gestured to the table and the seats around it. 

As they all took their places, Alberta was the only one who stood still, not leaving her place. “Well it has been a pleasure to meet you all; however I believe such things are best left for you all to discuss in private.”

“No, no, please Frau Hitler.” Ulfric pulled up another chair in between him and the president. “Have a seat. I was the one who invited you here was I not?” he shot a look at the woman.

Alberta soon realized the true intentions behind her visit here, and whatever pleasant attitude soon began to vanish. She did not like to be involved in politics, but Ulfric gave her no choice in the matter. He looked at the portrait of Hitler once more, silently cursing himself for making her go through with this, but now was not the time for compromises and stagnation. The Reich needed to act, and decisively so too did its constituents.

“Now then Signore Kuhn, about this volunteer program.”

“But of course, while we appreciate the hospitality and fine wine, there is still business to discuss.”

“When is there not? But have no fear, good men. I’ve not forgotten why we have all come here today. Which is why I will not drag this out any further. I ask you all, how many men are you willing to spare?”

“As many as is needed, my Fuhrer.” Bojislavić quickly responded.

“That is good to hear, but remember captain, this is a _volunteer_ program. I will not be sending Gypsies and Serbians up into space shuttles to guard Mars, we need the best of the best at our disposal.”

“Hah! As if those filthy degenerates could ever _dream_ of reaching anything past their Ghettos! I swear my Führer, your predecessors should have let us wipe them out long ago.”

“As my colleague has said, Signore.” Satorni interrupted the Croat before he could continue the rant. “We are at your disposal, and be sure we shall be bringing only the finest among the Italian nations.”

Ulfric pulled out some files from his briefcase, and neatly put them on the table. “Feldmarschall Kürger has put forth the numbers expected for the Divisions. On average, our normal land divisions consist of 20 to 30 thousand well trained troops, though that will admittedly be far more downgraded to presumably around 10 thousand due to increased training requirements. We are not looking for quantity, we are looking for quality.” He took a quick pause to clear his throat. “Italy has been set up to house 22 divisions for volunteers, Croatia 5 to 6 divisions. As for America…” he turned to look at the president, who was notably silent this entire time. “Well… that was to be the negotiating factor.”

“Is that so?” the president poured himself some more wine into his glass. “Pray tell then Mr. Fuhrer, why would we be exempt from expectations.”

“Croatia and Italy do not span an entire continent, Herr Davis.”

“Indeed, and you have to admit mio amico, there are far more people in NordAmerika than there is in our entire imperial range.” Satorni commented.

“You got a point there. So, before I give a number, how about you draw me one of yours.” the president replied. Smart, he wanted to know the expectations.

“100 divisions.” Ulfric stated bluntly, and everyone’s eyes rocketed towards him, wide open. All stared in disbelief save for the president, who was eyeing the Führer with the same scaling gaze as before.

“You’re a man of high expectations.” he commented simply, taking a sip from the glass. “Tell me, how long did it take Eberhard Köllner to fly to the moon?”

“Training took 2 years, give or take.” Ulfric replied simply. 

“And I suppose you expect me to get those 100 divisions of yours ready by Christmas?”

“They teach you mind-reading in Texas as well Lucas?”

“No, just to know when someone’s trying to bullshit me. We’ll give you 50.”

“Brave words for a man surrounded with knives in every corner.”

“You get used to it in Austin.”

The room became deafeningly silent, more so than when he was in here by himself. Hitler stood on his railings, watching over the four men and his great grandniece. Silently judging Ulfric as to what his next moves will be, yet he was not the only one. He saw it in the way he sat, talked and walked. Lucas Davis was known to push the limits of what most politicians found acceptable, in some way, they were more alike than they were different. But Ulfric did not need ambitious Kings or Braveheart politicians, he needed men who knew what to do and when to do it.

“You asked me my expectations, Herr Davis. I gave them to you.”

“And I mine, Mr. Fuhrer.”

“While this confrontation is no doubt _very_ entertaining to watch for the many bees flying outside the window, may I remind you gentlemen that we are supposed to be working together here?” Alberta jumped in at the last second.

The two did not break eyesight from one another, and no doubt Signore Satorni and captain Bojislavić were sweating as to whether or not there would be yet another cold war to contend with other than the Japanese.

“Lady’s right.”

“You never say no to a Hitler, Herr Davis.”

“So it seems. Alright, you’ll get your bloody 100 by Christmas.”

“Wonderful, now, for just a few more details to be hashed out. No doubt to be refined by the men more suited for such affairs, but they should be mentioned nonetheless.”

* * *

The rest of the meeting had gone mostly as planned and the orders were already underway. Saying their final goodbyes, the representatives for the Reichkommisariats all prospective bid their farewell to both the Fuhrer and Alberta before making their leave, leaving the two of them alone once more, the shadow of Adolf Hitler still cast over Ulfric’s mind and body.

“That went rather well, wouldn’t you agree?” he finished up his last glass of wine, the third one he had taken, save for the five others he drank before this whole fiasco began, calming for the nerves he justified it as.

“Yes, indeed… That moment when you nearly began a third world war was quite the power move of political foreplay.” Alberta remained far more sober than any of them, and rather silent save for her brief comments at the beginning.

“Ah, a little tug of war here and there never hurt anybody.”

“I had thought you to be a more honest man mein Führer.” she remained seated in the chair Ulfric had given her that entire time, and even now she did not move a muscle, running her fingers across the tip of the undrunk glass.

“Never trust a politician Alberta.” alcohol was an indulgence he would rarely partake in, for obvious reasons. The Reichstag was a den of spiders, all trying to weave their own layers of deceit and lies in the already enormous maze of a web. Those lies were all often thrown out the window when under the influence and Ulfric saw more than his fair share of colleagues lose both their jobs and their lives because of it.

“Is that another one of your _cautionary tales_ for me Ulfric?”

“No, just the truth. And if you want more of it then by all means I will tell you, you were a fool to trust me, and an even bigger fool to continue talking to me now.” he poured himself the last couple of droplets the bottle had into his glass and gulped it down.

“We often make the beds we end up lying in, Ulfric, and my husband always said I was a bad judge of character.”

“On the contrary, I believe you’ve found yourself the greatest scum in all the Reich to share drinks with.”

“Enough with your dog and pony bullshit Ulfric!” she finally let out all the pent-up frustration he could see rising and boiling inside her this entire time. “I’m not throwing my lot in with you for political reasons! Can’t you see that? I believed in you, for once I thought that we could do some good, some actual damn good for this nation!”

“And we have… The Reich will fly to height yet uncovered, and I’ll be remembered as the man who led it there.”

“On the backs and charred corpses and mangled bodies.”

“A legacy fitting for a Führer.”

“But not for a German… a true German.”

He thought on her words, had he been more sober, they would not even be having this conversation, yet a quality argument was always good for clearing one’s senses. “And who told you that Frau Hitler? Was it perhaps your husband? Your family?”

She remained there, silent, before crossing her arms and turning away from him. The portrait of Adolf lied between them, the eternal legacy infringed on both of them, with her, the name, and with him, the title that most men would burn nations to the ground for.

“Tell me mein Führer.” she spoke, not even bothering to make eye contact anymore. “Do you know of Manfred von Richtofen?”

“The Red Baron, who doesn’t?” Ulfric responded, trying to straighten himself from slouching in the chair. “I remember my father would tell me stories of his dogfights during the Weltkrieg.”

“He was one of the world’s first flying Aces. A devil in the sky, and an inspiration to our people.”

“Indeed he was, and his family continues that legacy, upholding it proudly.”

“Yes… He was many things. He was a soldier, a cavalryman, then a pilot, then an ace, then the infamous Red Baron. But do you know what he was not?”

“What?”

“A butcher.”

He needed to physically stop himself from laughing at that. All soldiers were butchers, no matter what they did. War is hell, and only the fierce and cruel leave it, leaving behind the brave and kind.

“He was not some mad, blood-crazed killer. He was a fighter pilot, one who shot down allied plane after plane. Yet he never went further than that. There was a reason soldiers had pictures of him down in those sick and mud-filled trenches. Because he showed them the ideal of what we all wished to be. Knights in the sky, chivalrous, honorable, never faltering and wavering to even the greatest dangers. Even our enemies understood his intentions, and honored him for it.”

It was as if he was listening to a little girl read about her fairy tale prince, the sparks of hope emanating from her voice merely served to depress Ulfric more. For everyone knew what became of the valiant Red Baron.

“And then the Baron, ever-so-young and ever-so-brave, died in a plane crash. He died just like any soldier. No magical Excalibur to heal him or lady of the lake to crown him Kaiser.” Ulfric interrupted her storytelling session.

“And what became of his body then?”

“He was buried.”

“With all the honors he deserved, and by whom?”

“The enemy.”

“Indeed. On his casket, they gave him a military funeral, and bestowed all the honors one like him deserved. _To our Gallant and Worthy Foe_ they inscribed onto his wreath.”

“I believe I understand what you wish to tell me.” Ulfric struggled to get up from his chair, but eventually managed to pull up enough willpower and upper body strength to go through with it. “That is why you say I am no true German.”

“I am not naive Ulfric, I know what this world is capable of. What _we_ are capable of. But in the end, I believe that if we truly wish to be this Master Race all your men seem to clamor on about, then perhaps we should first look to our past before dreaming of our future.”

“Do you believe Adolf would agree with you?” he stood beside her, staring intently at the first Führer’s face with a smile forming at his lips, Adolf seemed to be bored of them now, as his gaze now looked to be overseeing the mountain range behind them. Best to pop the question while dear old granduncle isn’t listening.

“I don’t know… And I don’t care to know.”

“I’m not sure I would either…” 

There was silence between them now. It was clear that there was little else to talk about. Besides anything that could be said about his ill intentions by bringing Alberta here, she did help to smooth things over, and Ulfric needed things to go smoothly. 

Unfortunately he couldn’t bring her to the SS meeting he had tomorrow. Luckily, Gottfried would be there in her stead, he couldn’t face those brainless apes on his own… But he needed them.

They all needed them…


	7. Chapter 7: The war machine springs to life.

**6/5 2035**

**Onboard the German destroyer DKM Herzog.**

“You would think they could handle this stuff on their own by now. Can’t see why we need to babysit every fucking time.” Captain Arnold Bruckmann remarked as he took a sip of his coffee. Time read 5:46 am, in Germania at least. Time was funny out here. The great big space, spanning before him, not so much smaller than it used to be. He looked over the files again, a relay they called it. They had opened at least a dozen or so of them by now, yet the Kriegsmarine still had to escort the science ships around.

“You know that it’s official procedure for us. The chance of first contact and all of that stuff. I think it’s fair enough.” First officer Simon replied. “Besides, It’s a hell of a lot better than just guarding a relay like most of the fourth fleet is doing.” Simon added while taking a sip of his own hot coffee.

“Try being the first and second fleet. Stuck guarding the Sol relay. You know, I started to think all these aliens died out. We haven’t seen shit but ruins. All of them predating human civilization.” Arnold theorized, taking another look at the overhead clock. “Get me a connection to Lorber, let us see how they are doing.”

“Jawohl!” The communication officer replied with a salute. He quickly began to establish a connection to the lead science vessel. It took but a few seconds before the relatively young scientist appeared on screen.

“Captain Bruckmann. What can I do for you?” Ansgar Lorber asked, and he seemed equally as annoyed as Arnold.

“Are you getting on with this thing or not? I need to send a status update to Admiral Schütz soon.” Arnold asked.

“We are. Shouldn’t be too long before we have the relay open. Then you can send a few vessels through.” Ansgar assured him. Arnold nodded.

“Great, that’s all I needed to know. I’ll have the Admiral bring out reinforcements soon.” Arnold promised and hung up. “Alright, get me a connection to the Admiral asap. If this goes to plan, we’ll be done with the next five hours and then we can go back to Göringstadt and have some shore leave.” Arnold said, and the other officers gave a cheer at the news. They had been out on patrol and escort duty for the last 30 days, and the trials of space were wearing a bit on them at this point.

Space travel was still new to the Reich. The Kriegsmarine had picked up the mantle, and had converted itself to a proper space faring navy. Within a short period of time, the Reich had managed to build itself a sizable navy, who most people believed was capable of defending anything it would come across. But there were also still the old guard in the leadership who didn’t approve of the rapid change. Those who still wanted a big navy on the seven seas.

The hologram flickered a bit, but finally the admiral appeared before Arnold. Admiral Schütz was a prominent admiral, having shown himself capable of the new change in tactics. Some said he was the closest advisor to Großadmiral Gerhardt, and would probably be the one to replace the great admiral once that time came. All the medals and the pristine uniform showed as much.

“Captain. How is the mission proceeding?” The Admiral asked, his voice deep and uninterested.

“Everything looks good, sir. Lorber said they are ready to launch the mission soon, so I’m formally requesting the exploration team to come as soon as possible.” Arnold requested in the most formal way he could.

“Granted. I’ll send them out now, they should be with you within the next 30 minutes. Once they arrive, you still stand relieved of duty. Return to Göringstadt for shore leave and reassignment.” Schütz ordered.

Arnold did a salute. “Jawohl Herr Admiral! Heil Germania!”

The Admiral did a nod, and the hologram disappeared. That was the best news that Arnold had heard all week. 30 minutes and then he would stand relieved? He couldn’t wait to sleep in a comfortable bed, and have a nice beer.

Arnold smiled as he drank the last of his coffee, and neatly placed the cup on the desk. He decided to take a little walk around the CIC, making sure everything was alright. He paced himself slowly, and mostly daydreamed of how wonderful that shoreleave sounded right about now. He did this for a little while, just enjoying the moment. Arnold requested one last status update on the ship, but while he was waiting for it to come through, one of the crewmen in the CIC noticed something.

“Captain! Come take a look at this!” The communication officer requested. Arnold raised an eyebrow, but quickly went over to see. He saw the problem, several unidentified signatures on the scanner were showing up. This wasn’t all that unusual.

“Probably just merchant ships or some Japs. Hail them and tell them to stand clear from the area.” Arnold ordered.

“Copy that. Attempting communication.” The officer replied as he turned his attention back to the console in front of him.

“This is the DKM Herzog speaking. You are in Reich space. Identify yourself.” The officer demanded. There was a moment of silence before anything was heard. Some noise came in over the comms, but it was unlike anything they had ever heard.

“Is that Japanese?” Arnold asked. He knew very little of that language, so it was unlikely.

“No sir. It sounds very weird. You don’t think that it might be-”

“It’s possible. Send them another warning.” Arnold ordered. The comms officer did just that. As the comms officer finished the demand, a request showed on the screen. The unidentified vessel attempted to establish communication. They granted it, and Arnold prepared himself. He was expecting to be greeted with pirates, or merchants gone astray. But what he saw was beyond him.

The creature that stood in front of him was unlike anything he had ever seen. It looked somewhat like a bird, but humanoid. Judging from the full size hologram form, these creatures were tall, standing quite a bit taller than Arnold. All were speechless as they looked at each other.

“That can’t be….” Arnold said, not more than whisper.

The figure spoke, but it was not a language they could understand… So foregin that they knew it wasn’t anything from Earth. All were dumbfounded, they just stood there as they watched the figure on the hologram rant and rave about something.

“What are the first contact protocols again?” Arnold finally got his speech back.

“Don’t provoke, and do not attack unless attacked first.” First officer Simon replied, but never took his eyes off the figure standing before them.

* * *

Captain Tiberis Doniran was looking at something he had never seen before. Creatures unknown, standing on two legs. Their skin looked soft, hair on their head like the Quarians had. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out that these creatures were a new species. At first they had suspected the Batarians or some pirate faction was messing with the relay. Not an entirely new species.

From down below cameras showed several squads of unarmed figures standing on the planet's surface, scanning and probing around until they too had noticed the ship orbiting just above them. Unarmed mostly, with only a small contingent of guards armed with primitive looking technology.

This would not be the first time a citadel race had discovered some new form of life out in the great beyond of space, however that mainly relegated itself to amoeba’s, bacteria, or far less developed forms of sentient life, and ones that couldn’t use guns either.

“Captain? The unidentified vessels are facing directly towards us, what are your orders?” the second lieutenant said from the terminal.

“Any signs of hostile action?” the captain asked back. The new species were in fact breaking citadel law. Some action had to be taken soon.

“None yet sir. But there is a transmission coming in.”

“Pull it up on comms.” The captain ordered and his lieutenant did as he was told.

_“Es ist der DKM Herzog sprechen._ _Du bist im Reichsraum. Identifizieren Sie sich bitte”_ the words transmitted through the intercom were, to say the least, unintelligible. In all his years in the fleet, Tiberis had never once heard anything close to this, and as someone who prided himself on being able to pick up on languages quickly, it hurt in more ways than one.

“This is Captain Tiberis Doniran speaking with the authority of the Turian hierarchy as well as the Citadel Council. We demand you cease your operation immediately or face legal repercussions for breaking Citadel Law Section 463, Delta 9 under the Rachni containment act.”

“Was? Wir bitte dir, kein Feindseligkeiten.” The figure spoke, his voice sounded… worried? That was the best Tiberis could describe it as.

“Clearly there is a bit of a language barrier here…” the Captain thought for a second on the best course of action. To go down there meant possible danger for both his people and these new contacts, for a number of reasons. “Septis, try and run through every translation program we have to see if there’s anything stored in the databanks. Send word to the Hierarchy as well, tell them what is going on, and have them send reinforcements."

“Already have sir, if there was we wouldn’t be hearing gibberish right now. Word has also been sent to the main fleet.”

“Then try and give them some signal that we're not being hostile. Last thing I want is to be put on a war crime board.” The captain ordered. The council would not look favorable on that….

“Very well sir…” the lieutenant turned back to his monitor, but froze for a moment. “And uh… what exactly would that signal be sir?”

“Rusty, what have you got for me?” he turned over to the chief engineer currently going through his omni-tool in a frantic motion.

“A dump truck of nothing sir. We can’t give them any of ours, least I don’t think we can or else we might risk offending them somehow.”

“What about standard Citadel ones? The ones you see plastered on all those bars and casinos.” The Captain suggested, his mind running at high speed trying to figure it out.

Rusty snapped his fingers and pointed at the captain. “You’re a genius sir.” Soon he was back to scrolling through his Omni-tool and in a flash had gotten to exactly the right one Tiberis had wanted. “This one sir?”

“Perfect, Septis, bring it up, and let's hope our friends know what firearms look like.”

* * *

“Kapitän... what the fuck is that?” The chief communication officer asked as he looked at what the aliens had sent through.

“Looks like a… gun? Probably some of theirs, don’t know why it looks like a fucking camel made it but whatever.” Arnold replied, but he was equally as confused. _What did they mean by this?_

“Seems to be they’re trying to show they’re not hostile sir.” Simon suggested, and that was probably the most likely answer.

“Or could be trying to lure us in, false sense of security is all they would need to wipe us out. Any word from the ground squadron yet?”

“Yes Kapitän, patching you through now Herr.” The chief communication officer obliged as he typed in a few things on his terminal.

_“Kapitän, what in the hell are we looking at?”_ staff sergeant Obnerr spoke through the intercom. _“I got about 15 different labcoats here currently staining their space suits with piss asking if they should just surrender or not, what are your orders?”_

“Hold your ground for now Unterfeldwebel, and calm those pencil pushers down. We’re currently still trying to determine if they’re going to try and attack us yet, contact has already been made with the 5th fleet and they are coming in to provide support.”

_“Roger that, do try and tell us in advance how the chat goes. Obnerr out.”_ The staff sergeant locked out the intercom and the brief window of silence was quickly replaced with another message coming through.

* * *

“Sir?! One of their vessels is going closer towards the relay!”

“What? Under no circumstance do you allow them to get any closer Septis. Fire a warning shot if you have to.”

“Tiberis no! They might consider that an act of war.” Rusty chimed in quickly, and it was becoming clear that panic began to seep in amongst the captain’s crew.

“Any better suggestions then Rusty?”

“Septis, shoot a flare, red one. They might be primitive but I hope they can understand that at least.”

* * *

Michael Obnerr looked on in silence as the two ships stood completely still, with him, his men, and a gagle of panicking scientists in between. _‘Always thought I’d die fighting those damn Mujahadeen in Afghanistan, not dying of old age on some random moon out in fuck knows where.’_ he thought.

“Unterfeldwebel Obnerr, get us out of here already!” one of the scientists grabbed onto Obnerr’s uniform and frantically shook from head to toe, if he wasn’t sure it would break his glass helmet he would have smacked the man across the check this very instant. If he kept this act up he just might.

“No can do, four-eyes. Captain’s orders are we stand our ground for now. So calm the fuck down!” Obnerr was acting under a lot of stress at the moment, a wrong move here and it could spell war. And war was never pleasant, he could only imagine what one on a galactic scale would look like.

Suddenly all got quiet, even the whining scientists managed to shut themselves up. All of them held their breath. Then, almost blinding, the aliens fired something from their vessel. Bright as the sun, it almost had to be a flare of some sort.

“What are they doing? Is that a signal? Are they going to fire upon us?” another scientist spoke in a jittery fashion.

“Orders sir?” private Hansen asked as he sterred the ship as best he could.

“Slow and steady Hansen, we wait and see what their first move is.”

“Don’t you understand you blubbering baboons?!” the spectacled scientist started screaming, not at Obnerr, not at Hansen either, but rather to the whole ship. “They’re trying to tell us to stop you morons! Clearly whatever is over there is not worth it if it means having to deal with facing these things!”

“And under what pretense are you basing this assumption off four eyes?” Obnerr remained calm, as calm as he could with this snot-nosed oaf yelling in front of him.

“Red, what else could it mean. It means stop!”

“Sir?” Hansen turned to the sergeant once more, it was clear from the boys body language he himself was having doubts.

Obnerr thought for a moment on their next move, he could either trust the ramblings of these deranged fossils, or his own gut instinct. Eventually, he made his decision. “Straight forward Private, not a step back.”

* * *

“Dammit, they’re not backing down?” Tiberis slammed his fist against the handle of his chair, the matter was escalating, far more than he wanted it to in the first place.

“Doesn’t look like it sir…” Septis replied.

“Fine then, any other brilliant suggestions Rusty?” he turned to the chief-engineer who looked at his omni-tool in a panic once more.

“No… sir…” he said dejectedly, finally letting his arm rest. He had done all he could.

“Septis, fire a warning shot, show them we mean business.”

“Yes sir, firing a warning blast in 3… 2… 1…”

The laser fired from their ship could have gone anywhere. It could have hit the ground beneath them, the endless void above them, some distant star light-years away. Instead however, it fired, and hit a ship just coming out of hyper space. Everyone was in shock, it all happened so fast, the ship must have just come out of a nearby relay, but soon the ship caught fire, that was put out by the vacuum of space, and began to take evasive maneuvers.

Though he couldn’t understand the next few words that came out of the intercom. Tiberis’ ship laid silent on what they heard come next, because they all knew what it meant.

“Feuer!”

War.

* * *

“WHAT IN THE SAM HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Generalfeldmarshall Kürger stomped through the halls of the Reichskanzlei, a storm of insults and shouts soon followed as many of the staff hurried to their posts, a sense of panic and shock breathing across everyone’s necks.

A storm was coming over Germania, one no one could have predicted. Except one.

“Ulfric!” he swung open the doors to his friend’s office as he saw the Führer sit at his desk, not a hint of exhaustion or fear showing. “What is this?” Kürger slammed a file on the desk. It was reports on the latest research operation to an as-of-yet undiscovered Mass Relay.

“That would be what had gone down about 5 hours ago.” Ulfric replied as took a sip of his brandy, followed by a quick drag of a cigarette.

“Please tell me this is some sort of practical joke that the luftwaffe and that pansy ass boy Siegfried pulled. Aliens? Really? Don’t make me laugh!”

“You know you two should really sit down sometime and get to know one another, I believe you would make fast friends with how similar you both are.”

“I will pave your goddamn skull on Germania’s streets.”

“Yes Gottfried, Aliens. We have just received news of first contact. And unlike my previous predictions and the many safety measures we have all put in place to prevent something like this from happening, it would appear we have now entered into a war with said aliens.”

“Is it those Protheans? Like the ruins on Mars?"

“Maybe… Maybe not. We don’t know yet. They hit one of our ships just as it came out of a relay. From what the DKM Herzog told High Command before they were destroyed it looked as if the vessel almost predicted where and when the ship would come out of the relay. If this is true, well, we might just have a fight on our hands.”

“Bullshit, there’s not a radar alive that can predict the future.”

“That we know of Gottfried. No matter what happened, Gerhardt is scared shitless and has ordered all fleets on full mobilization, with my support of course. Latest news seems to suggest mass traffic around the relay…” Ulfric handed Gottfried another report. Which Gottfried quickly skimmed through.

“They’re going for Göringstadt?” Their newest colony, not too far from where it all went down.

“Unknown but it's the best bet we have. Right now we’re facing a possibly technologically and tactically superior enemy. They might also outnumber us in terms of both manpower and ships.”

“Should we call up the reserves?” Gottfried asked. His mind had entered war mode. It felt like so long ago since he had been in active combat, that the Wehrmacht had faced a worthy foe.

“No, a state of national emergency will be called if necessary however for now we can’t put all of our eggs in one basket. We face them head on, with all the strength we can muster yet keeping an ample amount in the back lines just in case.”

“And the Reichkomissariats?”

“What do you think this is for?” Ulfric pulled a neatly tied A4 paper from his desk. “I’m about to give a speech to the entire to the Reich on how our very way of life is at stake, on how our people and our traditions are being attacked and-”

“Yadda yadda yadda yeah the same spiel we always use. Don’t you think they would have caught on after that scuffle in the Middle-East?”

“Weapons of mass destruction Gottfried, either that or we’re going to blame it on the Red Army.” Ulfric got up from his chair. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to oil up the masses, there is a new Krieg around the corner.”

_All of a sudden, the German war machine springs to life… It opens up one eager eye. A new target arrives, and the war machine is hungry._


	8. Chapter 8: ‘Defeat is bitter

“Anyone can deal with victory. Only the mighty can bear defeat.”

  * Adolf Hitler.



**7/5 2035.**

**Göringstadt, Reichs Kolonie.**

The sirens were sounding. Those damn sirens built just a few months ago. All frontier colonies had them. To signal incoming attacks. There were regular drills of course, but this was not a drill. One of the science vessels that had been deployed to open the relay had hurried itself back to the colony. The warning it brought with it had been spread far and wide.

_‘We are under attack. Prepare defensive positions.’_

That was backed up by official instructions from the fifth fleet. The colony would have to defend itself for at least 2-3 days. This frontier colony, barely 3 years old, was to hold the line from an Alien race, hellbent on fighting the Reich. This colony had next to nothing in the form of actual defenses. It’s garrison was small, barely over 3000 able-bodied and equipped soldiers. A far cry from the large garrisons and giant Surface-to-space missiles found on the crown jewel of interstellar Reich, Neue Germina, with its main city, Hitlerstadt.

Stefan Lechner so often thought of home, the beautiful city of Baden-Baden in Württemberg. This colony was nothing like that. It was more like something from Asia, with rainforests and lush fields. No mountains in the background.

He was an officer, actually the rank was Unterfeldwebel. In the Americas, that would go for staff sergeant. Sent here after finishing his training, and sent to train and lead a small band of volunteers. His men included different nationalities. He had been excited at first… but now? Now he wished he had been stationed in northern Norway or on the outskirts of RK Moskowien, anywhere but here.

The air in the barracks’ HQ was too hot for his liking. His superior officer sat at the desk, writing up something on a notepad. Stefan stood at attention, before he dared to utter a word.

“Orders sir?” Stefan asked Major Günzburg. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, he felt very unsure at what would happen next.

“Admiral Schütz has ordered us to get ready. We have no intel on these aliens, other than they possibly have very advanced technology. We don’t know their numbers, their tactics, their morale… Nothing. I want you to start preparing the men. We’ll be on our own for a while…” Major Günzburg replied, his voice was heavy. He had never expected to experience this in his lifetime, yet here they were. At the edge of history.

“If I may, sir?” Stefan requested.

“Go ahead Unterfeldwebel.” The major granted, which was unlike him, but these were not exactly ideal terms to work on.

“We have no Panzers, no air support, no shuttles. We only have trucks and old APCs, which are as prone to breaking down as they are driving. How are we supposed to hold off an enemy force?”

“We aren’t facing them head on, Unterfeldwebel. That would be foolish. Generalfeldmarshall Kürger has already relayed possible strategies for us to employ. We’re going for the hill, but not before giving them a few surprises when they land. Here-” The Major handed Stefan some papers. “These are the orders. Set up traps, evacuate the civilians from the main city, and make sure the old trenches are still working properly, they don’t need to hold up for long, just enough to give these alien bastards a taste of German steel.”

“Jawohl!” Stefan gave a salute.

“And Unterfeldwebel?” Stefan’s eyes jumped back to the Major. “I’m counting on you here. If we are to survive, we have to work together.” The Major said.

“I understand.” Stefan quickly replied.

“Sieg heil.”

“Heil Germania!”

* * *

_“I want forward positions and mines laid out on the main roads. There’s not a chance in hell we’ll be facing these aliens head on, but we can surprise them. Our AA batteries and radar are already working overtime in trying to take down as many landing shuttles as we can. You have a brief window here Unterfeldwebel, once our shields go down orbital bombardment will blow anyone not in their trenches. Don’t fail us here Stefan.”_ The Major gave Stefan’s squad the orders through radio transmission.

“Plant and retreat. Simple as pie.” John Walker adjusted his last magazine on his belt. He was their main gunner of the group. A bit trigger happy, but able to keep his head cool under pressure.

“Orders then, Sir?” Günther asked as he clipped his helmet on.

“Only hold out as long as you can. If the numbers we estimated are correct, we will be dealing with a huge invasion force. Once we get overrun, we will run for the hills, and start a campaign of harassment, try and annoy these aliens as much as possible until reinforcement shows up. Understood?” Stefan said. He would be lying if he said his hands weren’t shaking like hell. He had never seen war before.

“Jawohl!” Could be heard in almost perfect union by the troops under his command. 48 soldiers, all hailing from different countries. In fact, Stefan and Günther were the only Germans in his platoon.

They worked through the night, readying themselves for the incoming onslaught. They dug trenches, defensive positions and made countless traps. This entire plan was based on a hit and run. Which was very unusual for German tactics, the Oberkommando was probably shaking their heads at this. Stefan’s only hope was that reinforcements could show up before the Aliens got a good grip on the colony.

The night’s sky gave no room for optimism. All the men knew what would happen. They hadn’t been stationed here because they were skilled, or because they were meant to hold it. They were just here to showcase the Reich’s population that the outer colonies were, in fact, protected.

The shield wasn’t holding up, it was never meant to hold up. They could see the shield was failing fast. The amount of punishment it had to hold up to was staggering. Sometime around 4 am in the morning, the shield finally came down. Hellfire rained down on them, nonstop orbital bombardment, from a massive fleet. All of the volunteers were shook to their very core by the brutality of the bombing runs.

Neither city nor military installations were safe. All of it was bombed, quite clearly to make way for Alien ground forces. It was so textbook: soften up the enemy, then come in and sweep up the remaining forces. Stefan could only hope the civilians had listened to the official instruction about evacuating the main city. Otherwise… Well, the relief force would be digging out corpses when they finally got here.

* * *

“You see anything yet?” Stefan asked the radioman. The poor private almost jumped out of his skin, he must have been awake for close to 36 hours. Stefan hadn’t gotten too much sleep either, none of them had. The waiting game was the worst part of a soldiers’ life. Knowing that the enemy would storm them at any moment, but never knowing when.

“No sir, it’s been quiet for an hour or so. Maybe they wish to starve us out instead?” The private suggested. If this had been in the normal Wehrmacht, the private would have faced disciplinary action for speaking without permission. But this ragtag union of different nationalities with little to no organization.

“Alright. Alert me right away if anything happens.” Stefan ordered. The private nodded before he turned his eyes back to the screen. Stefan did another inspection of the defenses. They had done as much as they could given the time limits they had to operate with. The first casualties had already been counted or at least estimated, about 500 men had already been killed. They never even had a chance to fight the aliens… They had been killed by some alien fuck, sitting in his spaceship with his feet kicked up.

A lot of soldiers had already been injured. A minute didn’t go by where medics weren’t rushing wounded soldiers back to camp. Where another soldier discovered an arm, or a leg, lost by their comrade in the mud. This was madness, pure madness. Why couldn’t the aliens just have entered a dialogue with the Reich?

As Stefan was making his way to the final trench, the one on the very outskirts, a call came over the comms.

“THEY’RE COMING! THE ALIENS ARE COMING!” The call wasn’t just directed at him, it went out all over everyone’s comms. Before Stefan could make his way back, he saw the sky filled with smaller ships. All of them inbound.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath. “EVERYONE, BATTLESTATIONS. It’s now or never.” adrenaline rushed through everyone’s veins, the bombing had stopped. Now came the real enemy. Bitter hatred had developed over the last 24 hours for this new enemy. The AA stations, at least those not destroyed during the bombing, began firing blindly into the sky.

Only a few shuttles were shot down, but every one mattered. The men readied their heavy machine guns, and anti-tank rockets into their rocket launchers. They had no idea if they would be effective or not, but it was all they had.

During all this chaos, Stefan had found refuge in one of the most forward trenches. There, he sat alongside the men under his command. Awaiting the doors to open. And open they did. Alien after alien swarmed out.

“OPEN FIRE!” Stefan ordered, echoed by the orders from the major.

Soon enough… Even the aliens would understand pain in its purest form. They fell like flies, they walked straight into the fire from the volunteers, it was like watching Normandy on repeat, where the Americans had failed to storm the beaches. When one turret overheated, they held off the aliens with small arms fire until they could return with heavy fire.

The ground was soaked in Alien blood after 20 minutes of nonstop fire. There wasn't enough ammunition to keep this up, and not to mention that the aliens never stopped coming. More and more shuttles came to drop off fresh meat for the grinders. With all these things considered, the odds were stacked against them. Stefan got orders from the Major.

“Retreat.”

“Everyone, retreat!” Stefan echoed what he had heard the major said. One of the other platoons was ordered to protect the rear as the majority ran for the hills. As Stefan looked back, the aliens overran the last platoon, they moved so fast. How were they to ever stand up to such an enemy? An enemy who had probably been in space longer than they had, an enemy who had probably fought a war in space before… How were they to survive?

* * *

Lieutenant Herus Surion walked with sergeant Maxtus Velinis through the killing fields. They were counting the dead, of which there were many. Maxtus was holding a hand counter device, his finger was getting numb from the countless times he had to click on it.

“Savages. Clearly this is a race still early in their space adventures. Can’t believe we lost so many.” Maxtus remarked. He wanted nothing more to burn this place to ground. 300 Turians had lost their life in this first push, and they hadn’t even destroyed the enemy yet.

“It’s far from over. The garrison managed to escape. We’ll continue the bombing. These brave Turians gave their life for the Hierarchy.” Herus replied as he walked along. The medics were on the scene, ready to extract any Turian still able to be saved.

“We’ll get them. I suspect we have gotten the main force. Any reinforcement would be several days away, by that time we’ll have most of the 8th fleet here.” Maxtus said as he found another breathing Turian, barely alive. “Medic, over here!” He called. The medic ran there as fast as he could.

“Did we capture any prisoners?” Herus asked as he began to read the full report of the battle.

“Yes, about two dozen. We have been able to adjust our translator, so we can speak with them. This Salarian technology is amazing.” Maxtus answered as he looked to see how many more they were missing to count. Not too many it would seem.

“Good, then we can start gathering intel. Some of them must know something. We are not dealing with idiots here, we should keep that i-” A beep on Herus’ omni tool pulled him out of his thoughts. “We have to report back to the major. We’ll get new orders.” Herus said.

They began walking back. Herus gave the order to begin bagging up the dead. They would be shipped back to their families soon enough. It was a shame, this would not go down well for General Coslio Ramidas, the Hierarchy usually wouldn’t look favorably upon bad tactics.

“What about the city?” Maxius asked, he hadn’t seen the settlement yet.

“It’s in ruins, mostly.” Herus replied as they walked along.

“And the population?” Maxius was generally curious. He knew the bombing had been ruthless.

“We only found a few corpses there. We assume they have been evacuated. Not much left for them to find. We aren’t sure if they’ve gotten off the planet, or if they ran to the forests.” Herus explained. The few corpses they had found had probably refused to leave their home, and paid dearly for it.

Full occupation would begin, and once reinforcement came along, they could start focusing on whatever their enemy could throw at them. The Hierarchy had yet to lose a war, and they weren’t about to start now. They would win this, regardless of cost.

* * *

**13/5 2035.**

**The forests outside Göringstadt.**

Stefan was so, so tired. He had fought like hell for the past six days. Whenever he wasn’t ambushing the aliens, he was listening in on the one radio that could breach the alien jammer. He held out hope, the only hope there was, for the Wehrmacht. He was longing for when the cavalry would swoop in. Luftwaffe fighters in the air, Kriegsmarine in space and jackboots on the ground. Yet every hour that passed had only served to grow his fears for the inevitable offensive that would be his last. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept a good hour without interruption, and it was not only him running on fumes.

“Another one Sarge.” Walker came in with a briefing report. “24 by the old bridge nearing our camp, I think they might be coming onto us.”

“Are they armed?”

“Do tigers have teeth?”

“Alright then, you and 5 others go and set up the ambush. They still haven’t mapped this part out yet, so they’re going in blind.”

“Jawohl...” Walker said as he gave a salute.

As Walker exited out the small makeshift hovel they had dug out for themselves Stefan looked at the dirty and disheveled remains of his uniform. If he were back home, his father would have spit on the image in front of him. But war does this to a man, that much he had managed to learn in these short yet painful few days.

Now was not the time for recollection however. This was a guerilla campaign, it’s where you can’t give away where you are. This was probably the same way the enemy of the Reich in Afghanistan had fought their war. The Irony was not lost.

“Sir!” A private came running up to Stefan, clearly out of breath. Stefan recognized it as one of the scouts he had send out earlier that day to keep an eye on the city.

“What’s up Gallo?” Stefan asked as he rubbed his temples.

“Something is going on in the city. A shuttle came, and it seems that a high ranking alien was with it! He is still there!” Gallo informed him, as he tried to catch his breath. “I ran as fast as I could once I saw it.”

“Good man. Are you certain it’s a high ranking alien?” Stefan asked, he had to be sure if he were to send somewhere there.

“All of them saluted him. Even the majors. He must be a general, or something.” Gallo was certain of it. Stefan could see as much. He thought about it for a while, it would be a risk going that close to the city, but then again…. 

“Soanescu?” Stefan asked.

“Yes sir?” Soanescu asked as he stood up.

“Are you still the best sniper in all of Romania?” Stefan asked.

“Sure is.” Soanescu replied with a slight chuckle as he padded his sniper rifle.

“We’ll go together. I’ll be your spotter.” Stefan ordered. Soanescu nodded to show he understood. “If I don’t return, Günther will be the new CO.” Stefan announced to his ragtag group of soldiers. All of them understood, but they were indeed sad by the thought. Regardless of all that had happened, Stefan had kept them safe.

Günther shook Stefan’s hand, a show of respect. They all knew this could be important. That general had probably been the mastermind behind this attack, and they had the opportunity to make him pay for it. Both Stefan and Soanescu bid them all farewell. This was high risk, but high reward.

They set out and moved west through the thick forest. They moved fast, as it was still early morning. The sun was burning, and they didn’t know how long the General was to be on the planet. Soanescu was a skilled sniper, Stefan had seen it. But he wasn’t sure if it was enough for this. They couldn’t get too close to the city, lest they be spotted by alien soldiers. They had mapped out the routine of the soldiers, but would it really be enough?

Stefan’s thoughts ran wild. He had already been taught that the good of the Reich came before him. If killing this general would help the Reich in retaking the colony, then it could only be a good thing, even if it becomes the death of him. Soanescu tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but Stefan wasn’t in the mood. He was focused on the task at hand.

A good hour after leaving camp, they came to the edge of the forest, to a hill that overlooked the main city of the colony. Soanescu began setting up the sniper rifle. Stefan checked the direction of the wind, how fast it was and how far it was between their position and the city. They readied themselves for extensive waiting, that was the rule of the game.

Soanescu understood hunting. He learned how to fire a rifle before he learned how to walk. At this point, he was their best bet for landing a clean shot on the General. Then it was just a matter of getting out of there alive, which was less than likely. But perhaps they would be remembered more fondly, maybe even martyrs.

They waited for a long time, regularly recaluting the wind data, and the distance to different waypoints. Stefan wasn’t that used to this waiting game, and he could feel himself getting restless. Soanescu was calm as a cucumber. He was in his zone.

Stefan was taking a bite to eat, he knew their rations were running out. Just as he struck his teeth into the sandwich he had made, he spotted a shuttle coming down. It looked well armored, and was probably carrying someone important. Stefan zero’ed in on the shuttle, and waited for the doors to open to confirm the target. He was tapping his fingers on the binoculars.

Out came what could be only described as a high ranking alien. His armor was much more refined than that of the common soldier, or even the officers they had seen. Stefan saw what Gallo had meant. Everyone saluted the alien.

“Possible target. one o’clock.” Stefan said.

“I see him…” Soanescu remarked as he trained his sights on him. “Permission to take the shot?” Soanescu asked.

“Yes. Take the shot. End this bastard.” Stefan ordered.

“Copy that.” Soanescu once again zoned out. His breathing ceased as he lined up the shot. There was about one kilometer away, Stefan would never been able to make such a shot. A few seconds went by before Soanescu took the shot. Even Stefan held his breath as they waited for the shot to land. It took some time, but finally, both of them were treated to the glorious sight of the General’s brain splattering all over the shuttle. His lifeless body fell to the ground.

“Confirmed kill!” Stefan cheered. He felt relieved. They had done it. But the heat came soon thereafter. The aliens soon understood where the shot had come from, and they unloaded their own guns on that hill. “Time to go!” Stefan ordered.

“Seems so.” Soanescu remarked as he holstered his sniper rifle on his back. And then they bolted, they ran like hell through the forest from where they had come. It was a long way back to camp, but a thought dawned on Stefan. They might very well lead the aliens to their camp.

“You keep running-...” Stefan said as he caught his breath. “I’ll run the other way, make sure they don’t follow us.” Stefan remarked. He could hear the voices of the aliens in the background.

“Are you sure sir?” Soanescu asked concerned.

“YES! Just go!” Stefan pushed Soanescu ahead, and looked back at the aliens, fumbling around the forest. Soanescu nodded, and began running back to camp. Stefan readied his assault rifle and began running in a different direction. He knew these woods better than the aliens.

He made a few kills by firing in the general direction of the aliens as he kept running. He led them into a few traps, which only served to anger his pursuers even more. They were still after him, they weren’t giving up, and it made Stefan feel even more hopeless. What would happen if they captured him? No, they would never capture him, at least not alive. His grenade would ensure that.

It only became more hopeless as a stray bullet hit his leg. His legs gave out under him, and before he knew it, he was on the ground. He tried to crawl, but it was not going to cut it. He positioned himself by a tree. He never stopped firing his rifle, even as they came closer. He would be damned if his father would be told his son died a coward’s death, or that his son allowed himself to be captured.

Stefan pulled the pin out of the grenade, and would let fate do the rest…


	9. Chapter 9: The hammer swings back.

“ _Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live.”_

\- Adolf Hitler.

  
  


**15/5 2035.**

  
  


**Oberkommando HQ, Germania, Großgermanisches Reich.**

  
  


Generalfeldmarschall Gottfried Kürger looked over the plans made on the hologram screen in the war room. This colony, which was not too old, was the talk of all of the Reich. Attacked by aliens and occupied by aliens. As long as this was true, the Reich was losing prestige, fast. The Führer had ordered them to take it back, and he wanted it done yesterday. The SS was breathing at their necks, and Gottfried was losing sleep over it.

  
  


He took another puff of his cigarette as he pondered on the situation at hand. It was hard to wage a war against an alien force of which you had no intel on. It didn’t help that communication had been cut off from the colony. They were flying blind here. Gottfried stroked his chin.

  
  


“Is everything set?” He asked. The other field marshals, Generals and Admirals looked at him.

  
  


“Of course. We are simply awaiting your approval.” Generalfeldmarschall Jonathan Thälmann replied as he straightened himself out, they all did. Despite most of the men in the room sharing the same rank as Gottfried, they all saw him as the top dog. The very head of the German war machine.

  
  


“Your plan can’t fail, Herr Kürger. We will make sure of it.” Admiral Axel Kiesling assured Gottfried. Both Großadmiral Gerhardt and Luftmarshall Stroman were not among the crowd gathered here, but they were on the phone.

  
  


“Let’s go through it one last time.” Großadmiral Gerhardt’s voice said over the phone.

  
  


“Surprise and speed will be the key to winning this. The enemy believes they have already won, and are just holding out for a peace deal. Let’s prove to them just how wrong they really are. First-” Gottfried pressed a few buttons on the console, a simulation of the scenario came up. In hologram form, it showed the colony, and the estimated enemy strength. “It will be a combined assault from all branches of the Wehrmacht. The Kriegsmarine will be the launch of the first phase.” Gottfried said.

  
  


“Both the third fleet and the Fifth Fleet have been mobilized and stand ready. We will pour out of the relay at precisely 0400 hours, Germania time. The third fleet will engage the enemy fleet. Distract them from the colony. The fifth fleet will bring carriers and troop transports. The sixth fleet will be on standby in case it is needed.” Gerhardt explained.

  
  


“After the kriegsmarine completes the first phase, the luftwaffe shall come in.” Gottfried gave the word to Luft Marshall Stroman.

  
  


“Indeed. Our forces stand ready. The carriers on the fifth and the third fleet have already been packed up with fighters. Our main job is to ensure domination over the skies of Göringstadt and provide ground support. The fighters on the third fleet will harass the enemy, and deal the heavy blows that the massive warships cannot.” Stroman explained, and he spoke with great confidence, like he always did.

  
  


“The final phase falls on us, gentlemen. The Heer, with support from the Fallschirmjäger divisions and the Marinesoldaten battalions, will land once a clear beachhead has been made. The Invasion will be one based on speed. We will have the intivative. True Blitzkrieg, cut off supply and force them into submission. It will be search and destroy after we gain the upper hand, mostly with the use of air assault.” Gottfried explained, all listened eagerly. It was as if in that moment no competition existed in the Wehrmacht. Only pure hatred for an alien force. ”Our number one priortity besides retaking the colony is intel gathering. We need to know everything we can about the aliens, so we can strike them in their land. And spill their blood.” Gottfried had gone over this a hundred times by now, but he needed to make sure they all knew.

  
  


Gottfried looked over his fellow fieldmarshal and generals. “Are there any questions?” He asked.

  
  


“Sir, how many men are we deploying?” General Heider asked through the thick smoke of Gottfried’s cigarette in the ashtray. Gottfried picked up the cigarette and took a puff of it.

  
  


“2 divisions of Fallschirmjäger, 2 divisions of Marinesoldaten, as well as 6 army divisions and 3 panzer divisions. All in all, about 130.000 men… Some of the best troops. And if that wasn’t enough, we have another 150.000 men on standby for quick deployment if necessary. Does that answer your question, General?” Gottfried asked, the General nodded and gave a quick Yes Sir. “Any additional questions?” He looked over the General staff, and no one said anything. “Then It’s showtime. I’ll call the Führer. Sieg Heil.”

  
  


“Heil Germania!” They all said in almost perfect union.

  
  


Gottfried walked over to the telephone in the center of the room. Direct hotline to the Reichskanzei. He picked up the phone, and waited no more than a few seconds before a voice appeared on the other end of the line.

  
  


“Yes?”

  
  


“Mein Führer… Everything is ready. We await only your approval.” Gottfried formally requested. 

  
  


“You have my approval to launch Fall Rückgewinnung. Sieg Heil.” Ulfric was devoid of his usual emotions when he uttered those words.

  
  


“Heil Germania.” Gottfried said as he put the phone down. He turned to all the others. “The operation has been greenlighted.” He simply said.

  
  


* * *

  
  


**16/5 2035.**

  
  


**German Cruiser, DKM Straßburg. Approaching the Mass Relay to Göringstadt.**

  
  


For the last week Carsten had been waiting for this. He knew it was coming, and he simply couldn’t wait.

  
  


Carsten Weidemann was an Oberfeldwebel, he earned that rank through sheer commitment. Having trained in Böhmen for over two years, he was ready for this. He had been the first one on the shuttle. He was itching to drop down on Göringstadt and give the aliens a little piece of hell.

  
  


He checked his parachute. He had never deployed in a warzone before, but he didn’t care. He was confident in his abilities, he had been the best. He had chosen the Fallschirmjäger because they _were_ the best. If only his grandfather could see him now, in his armor and compact rifle strapped to his chest. Carsten turned his attention back to his squad, all of whom seemed excited at what was about to happen.

  
  


“Feet up gentlemen!” the commander shouted through the radio. “Drops will begin shortly, everyone prepare and be on standby.”

  
  


Soon enough the doors to his squad’s shuttle opened up, and he was the first to stand at the ready. The wind came barrelling at him at violent speeds and for a moment he almost lost his footing. But Weidermann had trained for this, just as his comrades beside him did. The instructor held himself right beside the open shuttle doors.

  
  


“You ready for this kid?” he shouted out through the strong gusts of wind, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  
  


“Ready as I’ll ever be.” he gave the thumbs up and soon enough the metal on his feet gave way to pure nothingness.

  
  


Carsten remembered his training from the moment, who took a deep breath and looked down. They were close to orbit, just bordering what could even be considered a breathable atmosphere. That’s what the rebreather helmets were for, a nice piece of German technology.

  
  


“Los Junge!” The instructor ordered, and Carsten stepped even closer towards the edge, and finally dropped out of the shuttle. They went one by one, in quick succession after him. He loved the freedom that came with the free fall. They had to get pretty close before they would deploy the parachute, mostly out of fear of enemies spotting them. It was a pretty clear day after all.

  
  


He looked around and saw all the others were just behind him. He checked his watch to see the distance to the ground. 4000 feet, that was his mark. He deployed his parachute, which went off without a hitch. It was a little too close for comfort as he landed in the midst of a thick forest. His parachute got stuck in the tree, but he was close enough to the ground that it really didn’t matter.

  
  


Standard procedure was to secure the surrounding area. As he did as much, his squad came down one by one, and linked up with him in no time. He checked the thick tree lines, trying to see if anything was hiding near him, but it would appear they had deployed without issue.

  
  


“Orders sir?” One of the privates asked as he came up to Carsten.

  
  


“We proceed as planned. The jamming tower should be here somewhere. Let’s go, we’re wasting time.” Carsten ordered, as they all did as such. As they walked through the bushes, Carsten reflected on how they hadn’t met any resistance yet, he had expected to meet enemy troops the moment his boots touched the soil of Göringstadt. He pondered on it for a little while, but he shook it from his head. Good Aryans always follow orders.

  
  


The bush was thick and hard to walk through. The uniform, which was a bit baggy, was not really made for this. He was afraid some of the fabric could be torn. They really needed to armor it up a bit more, but that was neither here nor there. The fast deployed jamming tower was on the outskirts. From what they had gathered, it had been placed by the aliens in a hurry, but it was still guarded.

“Eckstein. You still packing that C4?” Carsten asked as he crouched down. They were no more than a hundred feet away from the jamming tower, which looked makeshift.

  
  


“Right here sir.” Eckstein showcased the bag of plastic explosives to his commander.

  
  


“Jesus, put that thing away private!” Carsten ordered, he didn’t trust that shit one bit. He knew that it was no more safe in the little bag than it was out in the open, but ‘ _out of sight out of mind_ ’ was his motto. “Let’s take this facility. We’ll split up. Three of you lay down some fire from the front-” Carsten pointed to the front gate. “Two of you go to the back and fire your weapons. Just suppress, the last of us will push our way in through the side. Erkstein, once we are in there and have secured the area, you’ll plant the explosives. Do you all understand?”

  
  


“Yes sir!” They all replied. He gave a nod to start the operation. There were at least a few guards there, and that meant that this was their meeting with their enemy. They all awaited Carsten's command to start firing. He wanted nothing more than to make this enemy suffer. They had humiliated the Reich, and for that they should die.

“Attacke!” Carsten yelled out, loud enough that even the enemies could hear it. They all started firing at the small installation. They emptied their magazines against the unknowing enemy, who fell before they really knew what was going on. If they hadn’t attacked the Reich first, maybe Carsten would have felt bad for this...But alas.

  
  


They quickly gained on the little jamming station, they fired their rifles like crazy, never letting go of the trigger once they saw an alien. As they were in the thick of it, one of his team mates got killed, bullet straight through the head. It happened right in front of Carsten, enough for him to lose focus for just a second. He had never seen someone die before… It was so… Sudden. It takes only a second to die…

  
  


That only served to anger Carsten more. He could only see red. They had the nerve to take the life of a German? They would pay dearly. They breached the outer perimeter with lightning speed, and they all but slaughtered the remaining aliens.

  
  


“Get to work Eckstein! Blow this fucking tower sky high.” Carsten ordered as he gestured to the jamming tower.

  
  


“Copy that Oberfeldwebel!” Eckstein planted the plastic explosives in record time. Hooked it all up so it was right for a big blast. They retreated to a safe distance, but not before making sure that their fallen comrade wasn’t blown to hell with it. He deserved to be buried back home… Not here. “You should have the honor Sir.” Erkstein handed Carsten the detonator, which felt comfortable in his gloved hand. Carsten eagerly pressed the button and watched the tower blow up. Nothing felt sweeter than seeing that.

  
  


And within a few seconds of the jamming tower getting destroyed, the radio came back online. They had all the different chatter from the fleet. “DKM Straßburg. This is Oberfeldwebel Carsten Weidemann speaking, third squad, 8th battalion, 3rd fallschirmjäger division ‘ _Iron heart_. Do you copy? Over” He asked, hoping that the cruiser hadn’t been blown out of the sky.

  
  


“This is Hauptmann von Bothmer speaking. Reading you loud and clear, Oberfeldwebel. Since your signal is coming through, I would assume the first objective is done? Over” Mark von Bothmer replied, the captain of the company.

  
  


“Affirmative Sir. Do orders still stand? Over” Carsten asked.

  
  


“Yes Oberfeldwebel. Search and destroy, I’ll update possible locations of enemy troops on your tablet. Good job on the jamming tower. Our Marinesoldaten have secured what’s left of the city. We have them on the run.” All of them cheered as they heard that. Good news so far. “We have managed to push out their fleet as well. Our fighters have air superiority. If you need air support, tune your comms to frequency 231 DR. How copy? Over” Von Bothmer asked.

  
  


“Good copy. We’re on it, sir. We have one casualty, please advise. Over.” Carsten asked as he looked back at the dead soldier. Poor soul. him as he made a note of the frequency for air support. Might come in useful later.

  
  


“Copy. Mark location of body and report to medical. Report back if need be. Over and out.” And like that, they had just secured communication on the colony again. This would really help the effort in taking the colony back.

  
  


“Copy. Over and out.” Carsten went to get the location of his dead comrade and relay it to medical. The body would be collected later.

  
  


“Orders sir?” One of the privates asked as they regrouped.

  
  


“Search and destroy. Let’s move out.” He ordered.

  
  


* * *

  
  


This climate, as well as the environment, was totally different than that of Germany back home. It’s lush fields, and semi rain forest was something Carsten had never anticipated to be fighting in, though he had trained for it. His training did little to shield him from the humid heat. They had been searching the forests, trying to find holdouts. They stayed in direct contact with Command the whole time.

  
  


The main alien force seemed to have been defeated, but there were bound to still be holdouts. Most of the Marines and the Heer were already taking victory pictures, ready to be posted in newspapers in the Reich. Carsten could already picture it now.

  
  


**Sieg am Göringstadt!**

  
  


Though he pushed those thoughts out of his head. Unless every Alien on the colony had been either captured or killed, victory could not be declared. Carsten would be the one to do it. He knew it. Victory would be in his grasp. He would destroy every last one on the colony. For the good of the Reich.

  
  


A noise caught his attention. He gestured for his squad to get down and shut up, which they promptly did. Good Aryans follow orders. They all listened closely, trying to determine what the noise might have been, or at least for it to repeat itself. They heard it again, and this time it was getting louder. Carsten quickly gestured for two of them to follow him, as they moved up a bit.

  
  


As they came to a small dirt road, they saw what made the noise. A few armored vehicles were driving down the dirt path, escorted by perhaps a few dozen alien soldiers. They observed as the aliens moved forward. The Aliens seemed to be careful in their journey. No doubt they feared what could happen, perhaps they were holding out hope that they would be relieved soon, or that perhaps they could give the Reich one last bloody fight.

  
  


“This is Oberfeldwebel Carsten Weidemann speaking. Any fighters in range available for a bombing run? Over.” He asked into his comms. A few seconds went by before a reply came.

  
  


“This is birddog 2-3. How can I be of assistance? Over.” It was a fighter jet, probably close by.

  
  


“Hostiles spotted in the forest, stand by for coordinates. Over” Carsten said as one of his men searched up the exact coordinates needed for a precise air strike.

  
  


“Copy. Standing by. Over.” Birddog said.

“Birddog 2-3. Hostiles spotted in grid ref: Julius-Nordpol-6-2-9-Übermut. How copy? Over.” Carsten ordered.

  
  


“Good copy. Bringing in heavy bombing in 2 minutes. Get your people back about 300 yards and into cover. This is gonna be a big over. Over.” Birddog replied, and they instantly ran back from where they had come. It was a race to get as far as away as possible.

  
  


“We’re clear. You’re good to go. Over.” Carsten gave the final confirmation.

  
  


“Copy that. Coming in hot. Over.” And with that, Carsten looked up as he heard the roar of the fighter as it flew by. It dropped a massive load on the unsuspecting aliens, who probably only had a few seconds to react to the sound they had heard in the sky. His squad cheered as they saw the burning wreckage of what used to be armored vehicles, the charred bodies of what used to be aliens.

  
  


They checked the site for any survivors. Orders were to take any left standing prisoner. Intel was still what the Reich needed in this war. They checked each and every body, trying to see if there was someone not burnt to a crisp. Seemed no alien had survived the ordeal, a shame. He would have loved to extract some information.

  
  


“Oberfeldwebel! I think one might be alive over here!” One of the privates yelled. Carsten hurried himself over, and the private was right, he was alive… Barely…

  
  


“Hand me my medi-gel! We have to keep this alive!” Carsten ordered, and the team medic was quick to come and help. He had no experience treating a burn victim, much less an alien one. But luckily, Medi-gel seemed to be universel in it’s healing capabilities.

  
  


As they were working on getting the alien stable, shots were heard. They all took up positions. “What was that?” Carsten asked as he readied his rifle once more.

  
  


“More of them are coming this way sir! Orders?” Eckstein replied as he watched more than a few dozen aliens heading down the dirt path.

  
  


“Stay in cover and open fire! NOW!” Carsten quickly ordered. A grand fire exchange began as the Aliens stopped their advance, but only briefly. No matter how you slice or dice it, the Aliens had superior numbers in this instance, and due to how close the aliens were to them, air support wasn’t an option.

  
  


As the seconds passed, it seemed like that they traded kills, and within 5 minutes, over half of his squad was dead. He was running on pure adrenaline, an unimaginable high flowing through his body with every shot of his gun. Every German life they took, he would take 10 of their lives. So he fired, he fired every goddamn bullet in his gun, to the point of it overheating. He would never surrender. Their offensive was meaningless, the colony had been liberated, and even if they managed to kill his squad, the rest of the German army would breathe down their neck.

  
  


5 more minutes, and only Carsten and Eckstein were left alive. The Aliens were still coming, they had been reinforced, and were still numbering close to 30 attackers. They had scored a shot on his right leg, and it was bleeding profusely. Normally he could patch it instantly with medi-gel, but his medic had kicked the bucket and was lying dead in a compromising position. A ragtag of a makeshift bandage would make do instead. Carsten knew they were fucked. He looked at Eckstein, who was having trouble keeping it together.

“Eckstein.” He said as he loaded the last magazine into his compact rifle.

  
  


“Yes sir?” Eckstein asked, trying to calm his shaking.

  
  


“When I say go, you run like fucking hell through those tree and you don’t stop until you see friendlies. You got that Junge?” Carsten asked.

  
  


“Yes sir… What will you do?” Eckstein inquired as he gripped his rifle tighter in his hands.

  
  


“What any good Aryan should do. Make sure they don’t fucking win. Are you ready?”

  
  


Eckstein nodded.

  
  


Carsten picked up his comms again. “Birdog, I have another target for you. How copy?” Carsten asked. He was surprised his hands weren’t shaking. What he was asking for would ensure he wouldn’t survive, but he would live on in the hearts and minds of the German people forever.

  
  


“Good copy. Where do you want me to make another run? Over” Birddog asked.

  
  


“Same location. I’m stuck here with hostiles pressing down on me. Fucking burn them for me, will you? Over”

  
  


“Copy that. May God be with you. Over.”

  
  


Carsten didn’t need God. The only thing he hoped for was that his sacrifice would put a smile on the German people. Knowing that the fallschirmjäger always get the job done.

  
  


“LOS JUNGE!” Carsten yelled as he forced Ecksteinto run for the trees as he laid down some suppressive fire. When he looked back, Erkstein was gone, which was good. Only now had his adrenaline finally die down, and he had finally understood the scale of what he had said. Yet he didn’t care.

  
  


Carsten heard the roar of the fighter as it approached again, and the last image that came to him was that of a bomb descending rapidly right above him, followed by light, and then nothing.

Good Aryans die for their country.

  
  



	10. Chapter 10: SS marschiert in Feindesland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just wanted to put a slight disclaimer in here before people head in and read the chapter. This chapter does deal with some heavy hitting stuff, mostly the SS committing war crimes. If you are uncomfortable with that, I suggest you skip the chapter. 
> 
> Massive thanks to Winter1231505 and ShadowFuse for helping out with this chapter!

“ _The very first essential for success is a perpetually constant and regular employment of violence.”_

  * Adolf Hitler.




**20/5 2035.**

**Reichskanzlei, Germania, Großgermanisches Reich.**

“They’re called Turians. They are an old species, apparently very martial like. Their culture is that of obedience to the greater good, as they call it. From the information we gathered from enemy POWs and their ‘omni-tools’ as they call them, we have learned quite a few things. They come from a planet called Palaven, and they are described as being the largest military power on the council.” The head of the intelligence agency, Marcus Schaus, informed him.

“Council?” Ulfric asked curiously as he read through the documents, nicely titled ‘ **STRENG GEHEIM** ’

“Yes mein Führer. The Turians aren’t the only aliens in the universe. There are at least two other alien species represented on the so-called council. They are called Asari and Salarian respectively. Outside of that, we have at least 7 other species. Their names are on page 13.” Marcus explained as he stood upright, saying it all from memory.

“Alright. Are they allied with the Turians?” Ulfric asked as he scratched his chin. A larger beard was developed over the last few weeks, given he hadn’t found the time to shave yet.

“As far as we can tell, only the council is formerly allied with the Turians, but they are not in this war as of yet.” Marcus answered “More on page 20 on that.” He quickly added.

“I’ll read through it. Have you updated the OKW on it as well?” Ulfric asked as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yes mein Führer. They are informed as well. Anything else?” Marcus asked back.

“No, that will be it for now. I’ll contact Generalfeldmarshall Kürger and hear what he has to say.” Ulfric replied as he took a sip of his coffee.

“Understood Mein Führer. May Germany be in safe hands. Heil Germania” Marcus said and gave a salute and promptly left the room afterwards. Ulfric quickly skimmed through the contents of the documents, the results of what they had been able to extract from the Turians. Now they had to plan their next move, Gottfried just had to draw up a list of potential planets that they can invade, and occupy.

They seemed like a fascinating species, those Turians. Too bad they had made an enemy of the Reich and therefore had to be destroyed. Or maybe peace could be achieved somehow, but slowing down the German war machine once the wheels were in motion was next to impossible. Gottfried, though usually level headed, was heading the war, and once Gottfried was pissed off he was hard to stop. They hadn’t really seen each other much over the last few weeks, and it made Ulfric wonder if he should pick up the phone and call him. Ask him if there still was a chance for peace, somehow. Gottfried was still one of his oldest friends, they had been through most things together.

Suddenly, the door swung open. One of Ulfric’s personal SS guards came in and gave a salute. “Heil Germania! The Reichsführer of the SS is here.” The SS guard announced. Oh God, he had forgotten about that.

“Mein Führer.” Hans greeted as he walked in and promptly hung his coat on the rack at the door.

“Herr Lorenz. I fail to see the need for this meeting. I already made my answer clear over the phone.” Ulfric replied as he placed the file in his drawer and closed it. He then turned his attention to the Reichsführer

“I think you need to reconsider, mein Führer. Your choice was rather… narrow minded.” Hans really knew how to push Ulfric’s buttons. It was unbelievable the amount of underhanded blows this man could fit into a single sentence.

“Last I checked, the Wehrmacht has succeeded in retaking the colony, with relatively few losses all things considered. Why should I allow the SS to make the next move?” Ulfric leaned forward and asked. He kept eye contact with the Reichsführer the entire time.

“Because no matter how you look at it, the SS are still a part of the Reich, and we too must fight for the Reich. Alongside the fact that while the Wehrmacht has taken the colony, they need time to organize and prepare before the next offensive can be launched. The Waffen SS stands ready now, panzers and all… And we would be _most_ displeased if we weren’t allowed to fight for the Reich.” Hans answered while maintaining the eye contact. It was weird to see the SS so eager to fight for the Reich. Now came another issue for Ulfric, another problem to find a solution for.

If the SS are allowed to go and fight, they would, without a doubt, slaughter as many Turians as humanly possible. If they are denied to go and fight, they would become more anti-Reich and maybe even plan another coup in wartime. Ulfric was at a crossroads, this was not an ideal situation to be in. The SS were notorious for their conduct of battle, no enemy received mercy from them, and that huge loss of life would without a doubt come back to bite the Reich in the ass, but Ulfric couldn’t afford to think that far into the future right now. The war was here and now.

“Fine… The SS can handle the invasion of the next colony… Once we figure which one it will be. I’ll talk to the OKW about it…” Ulfric felt defeated as those words left his mouth. But in turn, what did he really stand to lose? Right now, the war seemed unlikely to die down, and if they were fighting these aliens to the death, then the SS might as well join in.

“I’m glad you came around to reason, mein Führer. We will not disappoint…. I will get my troops lined up and ready for battle, whenever you give the word, we’ll be ready to attack, and secure victory for the Reich. If you need anything else from me, don’t hesitate to call me. Heil Germania.” And just like that the Reichsführer was gone from sight again.

Ulfric sighed as he realized what had just happened. Gottfried was not going to like this, but what harm did it do that some SS men died in battle instead of the Wehrmacht? Probably more than he could realize right now, but he needed to keep the SS away from the core of the Reich, and sending them to die on an alien planet might just be the trick.

Ulfric picked up the phone. Better Gottfried heard it from him than someone else. He waited patiently for the field marshal to pick it up.

“Generalfeldmarshall Kürger speaking.”

“It’s me…. You’re not going like what I’m about to say.”

“If this is about that skyscraper I told you the spookies didn’t have any other-…”

“The SS are going to handle the invasion of the Turian colony. It was the only way to ensure they wouldn’t cause unrest.”

“...” silence, very unbecoming of his field marshall. In fact, Gottfried was very rarely silent.

“Like I said Gottfried, we need to stabilize the situation. The SS are breathing down my neck. They want to fight, I say we let them fight and die on an alien planet if that is what they want.” Ulfric talked into the silent phone. Preparing himself for the rage that would no doubt come.

“You’re playing a bad hand Ulfric…” a click, Kürger immediately hung up.

* * *

**22/5 2035**

**Turian Dreadnought Erasscus, flagship of the 8th fleet.**

Admiral Amlio Golienus sighed as he watched and listened to the Generals and Admirals shouting at each other. He felt the disagreements were reaching boiling points, and this was doing nothing but hinder them. Usually, the Turians and the Hierarchy were unified in what they thought and wanted to do, but not this time. This new enemy had surprised them when they beat them at the colony. Every idiot in the Hierarchy could see which way the wind was blowing. Their enemy would come for their land now, their blood.

The hierarchy was, of course, still confident of victory. But they were feeling the pressure from the Council to end this war, blaming it on them. Which was untrue in Amilo’s mind, since these humans had been breaking the Galactic law. They deserved to be punished.

There was also the matter of the intel they had received. This new species seemed utterly convinced that they were the masters of the Galaxy. Such a species could be a problem for the galactic community, especially if they were like the Batarians in their ethics. Not to mention they were very much like the Turians in their martial nature… Which only served to worry the hierarchy even more.

“Of course they will be going for Digeris! They want to target the ones with the largest population, make a point or something!” One of the Generals argued.

“Of course not! Altakiril is much more at risk! They want something they can handle!” An Admiral replied quickly.

“We still have no idea how strong they are, how many soldiers they have, how big their navy is!” The General countered. Which was true, but it was unlikely that they matched the Hierarchy’s strength. Though no one really knew. Their intel in that regard was still limited. They were in constant contact with the intel agency, trying to uncover as much as possible. They still had prisoners in custody, but they were hard to crack. Speaking an as-of-yet un-translated language was not helping them in that regard either.

“The numbers don’t matter, what matters is superiority on the field and in space, and our technology lends us that. I don’t care how many suicide runs their men do, it won’t help them much when they haven’t even developed the same technology as us! I mean, spirits, they have probably only just gotten on their own feet!” the Admiral once again retorted.

“I don’t think you quite understand the scale of this war yet. The absolute last thing we want and need, Admiral, is the Council breathing down our necks for what they call, _‘Undisclosed aggression’_.”

Amlio sighed, this was exactly the kind of bureaucratic bullshit he wanted to escape when entering into the navy, though granted he had been in the navy since he was 16 years old. No politics, just good old fighting, strategy and tactics, that’s what the Hierarchy was all about .

But the bickering only hindered their progress. They had to agree on where to position forces, stretching themselves out too much could prove a major headache in the long run. Amilo thought about it for a second. War time wasn’t the time for politicians to run things, it would be the mighty Turian army. They could have their status quo afterwards. This was about more than galactic law, this was about the honor of the Turian armed forces.

A call came in on the comms, a major figure in the Hierarchy. Lalio Palilienus, a major player in the Hierarchy. “Gentlemen, at ease.” The hologram figure ordered. Everyone quickly did as told, facing their leader and keeping quiet. “How are things progressing?” Lalio asked with his usual cold stare.

“Not too well, sir. We are in disagreement of where the enemy shall attack. Will it be a single colony? Or several? We need more intel to come up with a concrete answer, sir.” Amilo quickly replied, standing at attention as he spoke with clear confidence.

“We don’t have time. They will make their move soon, and we need to be ready. If the intelligence agency hasn't told you yet, then we believe that their numbers are not great enough for a multiple front assault. I want you to take the 8th fleet to the Mactare system and prepare defenses. I have already posted the other fleets in similar systems, should we be wrong. Is that clear?” Lalio asked. His tone left no room for discussion, not like there would be one anyway. Once an higher up gave you an order, you followed. No matter if it was a good or bad order. Amilo understood this, and he would accept his judgement.

“Yes sir!” He answered with a clear voice. Everyone else in the room did the same. Perhaps this would unify them… Or perhaps it would drive them further apart. Only time would tell.

They would fly to the Mactare system and be ready, should the enemy come knocking. The Hierarchy never sleeps, and it would always be vigilant. May it succeed.

* * *

**27/5 2036.**

**The 4th and the 6th fleet on the way to the relay linking to the Mactare system.**

At precisely 5:37 am Germania time, both fleets would make their way into the system. They were carrying with them 12 Waffen SS divisions in carriers, who would handle the colony. The Kriegsmarine’s job was to ensure they got there, and that the Turian navy was beaten back. Most crewmen were nervous about the whole ordeal, since fighting in space seemed so much more damning than fighting on the open seas. This probably wasn’t helped by the guests they were transporting, who did very little to be friendly with the crew.

The laser guns-… No, every single armentment on the ships were primed and ready. They knew they would meet resistance, but these Turians would probably still underestimate them. The joys of being on the offensive and being the unknown. This wasn’t the only system that would be invaded, two others had been selected, with different army groups and fleets handling each one.

Now it was time for some payback. They poured out through the relay as a single force. About 270 vessels of different sizes come through at the same time, the major dreadnoughts and carriers took the spotlight, of course. The different captains of each vessel readied themselves. The Admirals and rear admirals were also excited to see if Gerhardt’s gamble would pay off.

At 5:51 am Germania time, the fleets picked up the signatures of the enemy. A larger enemy than they had expected, but not too large for them to handle. The Admirals gave orders to proceed as planned, and the captains eagerly followed them. The 4th and the 6th fleet flew in formation until they got close enough to engage. The carriers held back, staying out of range and deploying fighters. The two lumbering super dreadnoughts brought up the rear of the fleet. The 4 km long vessels were slower than the rest of the fleet. Most distances above 100,000 km would prove too great for accurate shooting, and it gave the enemy too long to dodge. Kriegsmarine standard read below 80,000 km for all armaments.

"All personnel, stand by for depressurisation in 30 seconds. Engagement with the enemy fleet will occur in 90 seconds." Admiral Tristan Grothmann. Everyone on board already had their respective equipment on, suits vacuum sealed and readied for combat. They knew the drill.

The men on each vessel weren’t cheering, nor were they crying. They were waiting to see what would happen. Who would take the first shot? Who would come out on top? As it turns out, the Kriegsmarine fired the first shot.

The Dreadnought DKM Rheinland fired its massive laser installed on top of the ship. As envisioned and told by the 5th fleet, the Turian ships seemed to favor shield above armor, the direct opposite of the Germans. The Turian’s shields would brush off regular ordinance quite easily, but the laser on the other hand… The Germans saw its use quite clearly.

Drawing monstrous amounts of energy, the Rheinland's laser armament flashed across the dark void. A deadly concentrated beam instantly connected with its designated target, a light cruiser. Shielding for the Turian ship barely did anything to stop the attack as it was engulfed and annihilated.

The rest of the fleet fired their lasers at the Turians. Dozens of alien ships were obliterated. The super dreadnoughts, the DKM Martin Bormann and DKM Erwin Rommel, fired multiple lasers at the enemy, disintegrating every vessel in their path. The Admiral grinned. The initial attack had already wreaked havoc on the enemy's navy, this battle shouldn't last long. They had to be careful, their weaker shields suffered even further from the massive power drain by the laser cannon.

"Admiral, enemy salvo inbound. ETA 15 seconds"

"Evasive maneuvers." He ordered.

The entire fleet commenced evasive actions, dodging the counter attack. The 4th and 6th fleets all managed to escape relatively unscathed. Cruisers and Dreadnoughts were struck with glancing blows. The dreadnoughts shields shrugged it off. But enemy rounds punched through the shields of several cruisers, denting their hulls. The ships launched backwards from the force of the impact. Close calls but manageable. The destroyers and frigates with their greater mobility were able to dodge with relative ease.

' _Pathetic.'_ Tristan thought. Humanity had no reason to fear the might of these aliens. The Reich had superior firepower with their laser cannons.

He would love to keep range between him and the Turians, to pick them off one at a time. But the laser cannon needed time to recharge and cool down, precious time for the aliens to better set up their defenses. Reports from the 5th fleet mentioned that Turian ships were much faster than their own. He didn't like it but they had to close the gap. Finishing off the alien scum quickly was paramount if they were to punch a hole for the SS and capture the planet.

"Return fire, all guns. Have the fighters, destroyers and frigates push forward. Harass their cruisers and dreadnoughts. I want their guns off us." He ordered. The ship shook and vibrated as powerful broadside guns fired huge slugs off towards the enemy. Alarms went off as the enemy fired their main guns again.

"Enemy salvo! 15 seconds. Taking evasive action!" One crew member called out.

The crew of the Rheinland pushed the dreadnought into action, this time the fleet wasn't as lucky. Enemy ordinance slammed into dozens of ships. Multiple cruisers' shields popped like a balloon. Enemy fire tore through their armour, exploding out the other side, still operational. Others weren’t so lucky, they went up in a huge explosion. Debris scattered throughout the fleet, pinging off other vessels.

Tristan got to see also the mighty power of the Turian dreadnought. A single round struck one of their own dreadnoughts, the DKM Österreich. Their shields did little to lessen the impact as it blew through the heavy armour of the Österreich. The mighty warship had its starboard beam blown apart, exposing dozens of decks to the void of space. Tristan could see on his ships sensors personnel rushing about in the exposed part of the hull, tending to the dead and wounded on board.

The superior armour did its job, the Turian vessels couldn’t hope to destroy their dreadnoughts in one shot. Their vessels would hold and deliver death to the enemy.

He couldn’t believe how quickly the Turian ships were able to fire their main guns again.

“Laser cannon charged, firing!” A crew member called out.

The Rheinland, along with the rest of the fleet, fired their lasers. Devastating the alien vessels, dozens of ships ceased to exist. The weaker vessels in the Reich’s fleet managed to disable some Turian vessels with their lasers. Their armour and shields did nothing to stop the attack. The fight was evening out now. Turian forces had been decimated by the laser cannons. Their far greater numerical advantage was gone.

“Sir, enemy ships are closing in, fast!”

‘ _They want to deny us usage of our laser cannons_.’ Tristan thought. A smart move on the alien’s part. It meant things were about to get messy. “Protect the DKM Bormann!” Tristan quickly ordered, which the Captain relayed. It was clear that the enemy had their sights on the super dreadnought.

Fighters were once again deployed to delay the offensive of the Turians, hopefully enough time that the cruisers could catch up and finish them off before they could destroy the massive dreadnought. It was a race against time, these enemy vessels moved faster than the entire Kriegsmarine.

The loss of a super dreadnought would finally be devastating for the Reich. These massive ships were the pride and joy of the Kriegsmarine, but every admiral present in this battle knew and understood: They were hugely impractical, and were dragging the rest of the fleet down. Sure, their massive guns and second-to-none armor made them a great asset, the babysitting was stretching the fleet thin.

As the battle raged on, it was clear that the DKM Martin Bormann was doomed. All Tristan could do was watch in horror as the enemy’s cruisers swarmed the massiv dreadnought. Within minutes, the entire ship was filled with holes. A few more rounds from the enemy’s dreadnoughts finished the job, putting the super dreadnought out of its misery.

There wasn’t a soul that wasn’t shocked at what happened before them. It seemed as though the Kriegsmarine itself was burning and going down with that ship. Tristan had to try hard to snap the other admirals out of it. They still had a battle to win, it wasn’t too late yet.

The Reich went on a hard offensive. Their lasers were all charged up again, and the shots were precise. The Turians had made a mistake when they went for the super dreadnought, they were now in ideal range for the lasers and other amendments on the German fleet.

Within the next 30 minutes, the battle turned to a certain German victory, and the Turians found themselves retreating. They headed straight for the relay, probably hoping to regroup. The Kriegsmarine hadn’t done what they hoped they could have done: made the fleet collapse. The enemy fleet was still intact, and would recover and reinforce and try again soon enough. It was clear that the Germans should do the same thing, and soon.

With the Turians retreating from the system, the SS divisions could be landed on the planet with relative ease. But it didn’t stop the sting that the 4th and 6th fleet had lost around 30-35% of their force in this push… And the loss of the Super Dreadnought DKM Martin Bormann… That would not go over well with the admiralty. Großadmiral Gerhardt would be pissed when he heard that it wasn’t an overwhelming German victory.

But that was all irrelevant now. They had a colony to take… Or the SS had a colony to take. God help those colonists.

* * *

**27/5 2036.**

**The 4th SS assault battalion, 22nd Panzergrenadier Division “Florian Geyer”, land on Taetrus**

Obersturmbannführer Kurt Falkenberg was among the first to have his feet be placed on enemy soil, and he would be the first to set ablaze this accursed plague that dared go against the German people. His comrades soon came in alongside him. Their weapons drawn, the battalion quickly began to traverse the hostile land.

“Squads, report in.” Falkenberg spoke over radio. As he scanned the horizon for any immediate threats. He could see smoke in the distance, no doubt from Squad Ludwig that was shot down during the descent.

“Squad Anton, ready.”

“Squad Bertha, ready.”

“Squad Cäsar, ready,”

“Squad Dora, ready.”

The plan was simple, get on solid ground from multiple different points, afterwards, spread as much chaos as you could. Falkenberg’s platoon would be tasked with the most important task, taking the key-forward base located some 40 kilometers from where they landed, it was a crucial site for the planet’s defense, home of its anti-aircraft weaponry as well as the planetary shield that shielded this barren rock from orbital bombardment. The rest of the battalion's job was simple, spreading terror among enemy ranks. The Reichsführer had been quite clear in what he wanted: Kill. Every. One.

“Los!” Falkenberg ordered as he signaled his platoon forward. He was looking forward to the second part of the job.

“Jawohl.” the men said in unison, and they went about their orders.

The first order of business was getting to their more heavy weaponry onto the planet. Due to the planetary shield, the battalion’s window of attack was slim to say the least, and most of their equipment got separated at launch. The Kriegsmarine were driving the last Turian ships out of the system, but it had already fucked up their time table.

“Dora, Bertha, get the Panzerfausts, Anton, get the exo suits. Rejoin with us.” he said over the radio.

As they traversed the thick marsh-like wildlands, they made it a point to avoid detection as much as possible. Their little stunt had not gone unnoticed by the planet’s garrison, and hunter squadrons were most likely already deployed at their drop zones. Given some more time they will eventually find the drop pods and double back. While the battalion was trained for all-terrain combat it did not mean they were exempt from leaving behind tracks. Falkenberg knew those bugs were smart, yet intelligence would be their own undoing should everything go as planned.

A half hour later the first report came in through radio. “Feldwebel Uhtrich, squad Bertha, we have regained the Panzerfausts and Grenadier equipment and rallied with squad Dora Obersturmbannführer.”

“Good work Bertha, you know what’s next.” Falkenberg reminded them.

“Jawohl.”

Another trek across the wild, avoiding what little wildlife there was and stopping for a moment to observe a passing Turian patrol left them somewhat behind on schedule.

“Feldwebel Manner, squad Anton here, the exo suits are ours. Where to now sir?”

“Wherever the nearest field encampment is.” Falkenberg recited, quite literally what his orders read.

“Military or Civilian?” Anton squad asked.

“Does it make a difference?” Falkenstein asked. He made a note of the comment, they would follow up on that later. Good SS men knew both would be just as good a target.

“Jawohl.”

Soon enough a signal from squad Casar showed them to be close, and without further delay the two platoons joined forces. The auxiliary teams have done their tasks, now all that was left was Falkenberg’s own platoon to perform their job. Yet fate did not seem to be on their side just yet. An encampment was soon spotted by forward scouts.

“Report Privat.” Falkenberg asked the scout as he saluted.

“Fortified position 2 clicks east of here, Herr Obersturmbannführer . We could try and go around but I doubt we’d get past them unseen.” The scout relayed.

“Defences?” Falkenberg inquired.

“Bunkers and trenches, strange shields as well, seems to be the same technology they use for their own tech.”

“Alright then, fall in line.”

“Jawohl.”

Falkenberg looked at the data on his little tablet. He smiled as he realized it was an excellent opportunity to try out a few of the toys he had brought with him. “Squad Cäsar! Get the flammenwerfer ready, we’ll burn them out.” He ordered, and within a moment the heavily armored specialist stepped forward. “Good, let us get to work.” Falkenberg ordered his men. They were going to give the Turian a little piece of hell.

To cover the advance, the panzergrenadier laid down suppressive fire and threw grenades, and that tactic seemed to work wonderfully. The entrenched Turians were too busy dealing with the most obvious threat, as Cäsar squad creeped up from the flank. Falkenberg saw it through his binoculars, and he couldn’t help but look forward to seeing it come into full effect. Their MG’s were placed at an opportune enough position to be able to suppress whatever Turian firepower was coming their way. They weren’t ready for an assault, yet that didn’t mean they weren’t on alert.

That did not mean however that there weren’t some brave souls in that little encampment who kept firing despite the hail of bullets. The moment they exited out of cover, the riflemen set themselves up in a line right below the MG’s to take any stragglers out. They most likely thought their little shields would protect them, but upon contact all that was left was a bloody puddle of mangled and ripped flesh.

Despite the suppressive fire, some Turians still managed to get some shots off, one of them even hit a man from Falkenberg’s platoon. The shot tore right through the soldier's armor, leaving a large hole where right hip used to be. It seemed neither side had an armor advantage here. Within a few seconds, the dead SS soldier’s body exploded. All the SS armor was rigged to explode if the person wearing it had no pulse, but they could also be detonated manually, if the wearer was surrounded and saw no way out.

Squad Cäsar finally got in range, and Falkenberg gave the order. “Burn them.” It was spoken without any remorse.

At the drop of a second, the flames were let loose. The heavy specalist’s flammenwerfer sounded like a demon being let loose, coupled with the screams of dying Turians, it was music to Falkenberg’s ears. Of course those scum should have seen it coming, the bill was bound to come due at any moment, yet they seemed surprised.

“Don’t shoot.” he signalled to the MG’s who still had their fingers on the trigger. “Let them burn. This is their punishment” He ordered.

The platoon gave themselves a moment of silence to savor the screams, they may not have been able to understand their speech, but if there was one language Falkenberg knew, it was that of suffering, and oh how he enjoyed suffering.

Feldwebel Tener made his way to Falkenberg. “All done Herr Obersturmbannführer.” he said with a salute.

“Marvelous work, Tener. Now, shall we go and mop up any mess that’s left?”

“Lead the way Herr Obersturmbannführer.”

He knew that they should not dawdle about, the brief firefight alone was probably enough to get this planet’s entire sector aware of their presence and location. But leaving any witnesses or survivors was a threat to the operation in and of itself.

As the flames and smoke finally died out two of the squads began to check for survivors. At first, they were only greeted to charred bodies. The fruits of their labor. They cleared them out, and began to dig in deeper. They didn’t want to waste bullets on the enemy, so they had their knives handy, should it come to pass.

While his men were clearing out the Trench line, Falkenberg got in touch with the Standartenführer leading the brigade to hear if there was anything new he should know. The status update was that the SS had secured landing points and were bringing all the Panzer divisions, alongside the more interesting equipment. Like the massive robots and Panzerhunds. Falkenberg smiled as he thought about how they would fare in combat. The hounds teeth to their enemies’ neck.

Next order of business? His battalion would march on the city of Spaedar.

* * *

**A few hours later.**

**5 km outside of Spaedar.**

The SS had laid a path of destruction in their wake. Fields and villages had been torched, civilians hanged and soldiers gutted. Falkenberg felt at home, the cleaning could finally begin. These Turians would soon understand that the SS weren’t here simply to occupy the planet… No, their vision was far more grand.

“Is the artillery set up?” the Standartenführer asked over the radio.

“Yes Herr Standartenführer. It’s ready, we await only your orders to begin a fire mission. My men stand ready to storm the city, we have our gas masks ready.” Falkenberg was quick to reply. He was hoping that they could wrap up that city today.

“Then you are cleared to proceed. Let them choke. Heil Germania.”

“Heil Germania.” Falkenberg quickly turned to his officers and ordered them to begin the shelling. They would shell the city and gas it afterwards. If it wasn’t already clear for the enemy what the SS intentions were, they would learn soon enough.

The gas itself has already been tested on live Turians. A few of those captured on Göringstadt were sent back to Burgundy for additional testing. Needless to say, none of them would return home. The SS would ensure this colony would be cleansed, no matter the cost.

Falkenberg sounded the order to start the bombing. For the next hour, the SS would rain down literal hell on that city, one of the major ones on the colony. A little over a million Turians. Falkenberg smiled as he watched it unfold in the distance. This was only the beginning.

The heavy artillery was non-stop. Some of the men operating had forgone their armor and shirts to not die of the heat from the barrels. The city was burning and the civilians were offered no pause. The bombartment continued, with well over 1000 HE shells being launched towards the city. There would be little left but rubble for those who weren’t killed by the shelling.

His watch beeped as he one hour was over. He raised his hand in the air, to signal them to stop the shelling. They instantly stopped as they looked to them for further orders. “Ready the gas!” He ordered, and they went to work without any question. They all bore gas masks as they handled the otherwise delicate shells. Just over 20 shells of the stuff should do much of the job. The rest would be up to the battalions that would storm the city. “Fire away!” He instructed loudly. No one questioned what they were doing, they saw this as a righteous crusade.

“Gentlemen, gas masks on!” He ordered as he equipped his own. They all stormed into the APCs that would take them to the city. They were ready to spill blue blood across the city, they wouldn’t stop until they were knee deep in it. Falkenberg was looking forward to this, ever since he claimed his first kill all those years ago. He had been itching to fight a real enemy, and not some half-dead frenchman.

Of course, there had been casualties so far. Quite a lot more than the SS would like to admit, but they were not important. If they fell to the Alien scum, they weren’t worthy Aryans and would have just as likely died at the hand of a French partisan. If the SS weren’t allowed or unable to kill them all, they would at least castrate the Turian warmachine, neuter it forever.

Those who didn’t leave the city that day had better hope that the artillery killed them, because those who didn’t would suffer a slow death…

* * *

**3/6 2036.**

**The 4th SS assault battalion, 22nd Panzergrenadier Division “Florian Geyer”, patrolling Madra.**

The past week must have been hell for the inhabitants, but Falkenberg had to admit, the Turians seemed tougher than the usual sheep the SS ruled over. A lot of them ran for the hills, and began to fight back. They matched brutality with brutality, but that only served to have the SS crack it up to eleven. As Falkenberg was fighting on this planet, they were in the process of transporting tactical nukes to the planet. That would wipe up their pathetic resistance.

Being on this planet meant that death was all around you at all time. There was hardly a ditch where bodies weren't rotting, or a pole from which a Turian hadn’t been hanged with metal wire. This was the SS’ ideal environment. What kept them strong, stronger than the enemy. They were not afraid to do everything to secure victory. The Reichsführer himself seemed pleased with how things were progressing on the colony.

Falkenberg was checking off a list when one of his officers approached him, a Turian child in tow. If Falkenberg had to wager a bet, the kid wasn’t older than say 9 or 10, but determining the age of these creatures was hard.

“Herr Obersturmbannführer!” He gave a quick salute. “This child was disturbing our work! Hindering our progress! I ask permission to execute him.” When the junior officer said ‘disturbing their work’, he meant the kid had been throwing rocks at the SS soldiers as they walked by… Well, a group of kids had done so, but all the others got away and this was the only kid they caught.

“You have the authority to determine his fate. Hell, even the lowest ranking soldier can determine the fate of these dogs. Hang him and don’t waste my time!” Falkenberg instructed his junior officer.

“Jawohl Herr Obersturmbannführer!” He said as he stood upright. The junior officer turned his attention to the kid. “Get a move on! We don’t have all day!” And forced the kid to walk the steps to the gallows. Falkenberg paid little mind to it, they had killed several children already, so this was nothing new.

What was new was the child’s mother who came screaming into the camp, demanding to know why they were going to hand her son. Falkenberg smiled as he realized that this could be interesting.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CAN’T JUST KILL A CHILD!” She ripped the boy from the Junior officer’s hands, and the junior officer was ready to to strike her. She could die with the kid if that was what she wanted. But Falkenberg stopped him. “What has my son done that could warrant a death sentence?!” She asked, and she was furious.

“Your son disrupted our work in the field. For that he must take his punishment.” Falkenberg explained.

“You’re insane! Is that what you do to your children where you come? You invade our home, and then kill our youth?!” She spat at him. Falkenberg remained unfazed, but he was furious inside.

“Actually yes.” He said simply. She looked at him, shocked. “But, perhaps you wish to take his place? That is certainly what a loving mother would do.” Falkenberg wasn’t sure if she picked up on his tone, but his soldiers sure were. They all watched him with interest.

“W-what?” She asked confused.

“Someone has to pay for the boy’s crimes. It can be paid with either his blood… Or yours. What do you say?” He was serious, and even if she didn’t believe him, the SS soldiers behind were sure to remind that he was, in fact, serious. She took a deep breath as she probably pondered on how to proceed.

“.... Okay.” She said, and to her credit, she showed very little emotion when she said it. Falkenberg whistled and had the soldiers come and escort her to the gallows. They prepared her hanging, and Falkenberg counched down just beside the Turian kid.

“I want you to remember this sight until you die. Your mother has just paid for your sins. Her blood will wash the plate clean for now. I want you to memorize this, to forever look back on it.” He said, his voice low enough that only the kid could hear it. Thank god for those translators. Falkenberg whistled again, and the Turian was then hanged with metal wire. Though, she would suffer a slow death. “Her neck didn’t break? Too bad. Look at it!” Falkenberg ordered as he forced the kid to look at the scene happening before him.

The mother’s legs kicked and kicked… until they did no more. Her body limp and lifeless. The kid didn’t cry in that moment, he just looked at the dead corpse that was once his mother. Falkenberg knew what was happening in his head. That kid was swearing revenge. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow… but one day, he would have his revenge.

That’s why Falkenberg pulled out his service pistol and put a round in the back of the kid’s head. It happened in a split second, and most of his men hadn’t even expected it. “Never forget why we are here!” He yelled out to his men. “To kill all these vermin!” He ordered, and they all cheered. This was just a sick game to them.

Falkenberg went right back to his list. He forgot their faces within seconds.

* * *

**8/6 2036.**

**The hills…**

Quinruns Hilanion always figured he was strong. When he joined the army at age 16, he never saw a different future… That was until he met his wife. She was the only one that ever understood him. The only one he could trust fully. So when the call came, and they said there was an enemy invading, he gladly picked up his rifle and armor and marched to war. This enemy had surprised them, invaded their home… And now they were fighting some sort of race war, seeking only to kill as many as possible.

It hadn’t been personal, not until one of his friends approached him at the camp in the hilly forests and told him the news. They had killed his wife… His light... And his only son… His only child. Good Turians would have reacted with reason, they would have put the hierarchy above all else. Quinruns was different though. He wanted revenge here and now. The murder had happened a week ago, and since then he had done nothing but bribed his way to figuring out who killed his wife and son.

When he got the name and a description, he set off. Did recon for two days trying to find the invader. The savage… The Fucking butcher. That included sitting the treeline for hours on end, just looking through a scope… but he wouldn’t shoot the man… No, that simply wouldn’t do. This had to be up close and personal.

_Falkenberg…_ The name kept running through his head. That name, that _fucking_ name. He would kill that officer, he would gut him. Quinruns didn’t care if he died in the process, that was irrelevant. What mattered was that this officer understood that he had fucked with the wrong person.

Then one day, he saw his chance. A small opening in their camp. He put his recon skills to use, staying undetected. It wasn’t hard when you were committed to the idea. His knife was ready, and his pistol too, just so he could take out as many of these savages as possible. He spotted the tent he had seen the officer walk into. By all accounts, he was alone. The perfect chance.

When the coast was clear, Quinruns rushed into the tent. The officer was too busy looking at his work to notice the presence of someone else in the tent. “ _Falkenberg_.” He said, the officer instantly looked back to see who had said his name, when the invader finally realized it wasn’t a human, he tried to get his gun out of his holster. Quinruns wouldn’t accept that, he took his trusty knife and quickly closed the distance between the two.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight- the number of stabs kept on rising. “JUMIA HILANION! SECUS HILANION! FUCKING REMEMBER THEIR NAMES!” Quinruns gutted the officer, pulled out his entrails. He wanted to strangle the invader in them, but the invader was already dead by then. A shame, but at least he hadn’t died quickly.

“Herr Obersturmbannführer, are you alright? I heard some yell-” The soldier stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a Turian with his Superior officer’s guts in his hand. “HALT!” The soldier yelled as he went for his rifle. Quinruns was just a little bit quicker. A bullet to the head. now the entire camp knew he was there… yet he did not care. He had achieved what he came here to do. At least his wife and son’s murders did not go unavenged.

Quinruns got two more kills before they gunned him down. His last thoughts were of his wife and child… And how brutal this world was.


	11. Chapter 11: Cracks in the Surface.

“ _Weighing the sacrifices of the last war, we want to be true friends of a peace which will at last heal the wounds from which all have suffered.”_

  * Adolf Hitler




**8/6 2035.**

**The 4th SS assault battalion, 22nd Panzergrenadier Division “Florian Geyer”.**

**Taetrus.**

**Besieging a compound...**

These rebels, the scum of the galaxy, were proving more and more annoying by the day. The SS were outside a large compound, located within a thick forest. It was clearly makeshift, built in a hurry and then improved over time. Hauptsturmführer Ralph Heisenberg was feeling more and more insulted by these birds and their fruitless resistance. He wanted to shell the ever living hell out of that makeshift camp, but for some reason his superiors argued against it. As if these dogs deserve anything but a quick death, if even that.

They have had this standoff for some time now, probably around 5 hours. At least ever since they located the base in the woods. Once again, his superiors had told him to stand down and await further orders. Ralph’s blood was beginning to boil, especially since these flightless birds liked to snipe one of his troops every now and then.

“Give it up Turians! We have you surrounded. If you leave now, we’ll grant you a quick death! You keep this up, and we’ll drag you out kicking and screaming, and then you’ll undergo the most exterme torture… Not just you, but your families as well. All of you will hang!” Ralph yelled through the speaker, it would automatically translate into their language.

In response, these scum fired off a few rounds. Striking one of the soldiers standing. He fell down, dead. They had guts to spit the SS right in their face as they did. But they would get their punishment soon enough, they would die last, their families would be cut up like common meat before their eyes.

“Obersturmführer! Get a recruit ready for the final sacrifice. We’re going through that wall one way or another.” Ralph ordered as he took his eyes off the binoculars.

“Of course Herr Hauptsturmführer.” The officer replied and instantly asked his platoon who wanted the honor, they all practically lined up to be the first in line. Blowing yourself up in the name of the Reich and the Aryan race was the highest honor any SS men could ever get. Two men were picked out, and they readied their suits. Ralph smiled as he watched the two soldiers get ready, he felt… Almost proud, like a father would be of his sons.

However, before he could give the order, a shuttle came in. Ralph looked at it confused, he hadn’t received word of this. The shuttle, bearing the SS logo, was without a doubt carrying a superior officer, but why? He had this totally under control, he had followed their orders so far.

* * *

**Inside the compound…**

“Why aren’t they attacking?” Aulmus asked as he looked out the boarded up window. He had been keeping an eye on the things going on for a while now, as had most of them. They were about 50-60 Turians inside, not a big force, but they were all highly trained and could hold out for a long enough time, if given the chance.

“Because they want Vocus alive. Probably want to hang him in the streets to make a point or something. Otherwise they would have shelled us long ago.” Serruns replied as he was cleaning out his rifle. Vocus Quidas was the big dog, de facto leader of the Turian resistance. Former colonel in the Turian army, and now the highest ranking officer left on this colony.

“it’s getting me on edge… If that’s the case, why don’t they just storm the compound? They have the numbers for it, and they seem to care little about casualties on their side. Something isn’t right…” Aulmus theorized. He had faced off against the invaders a few times now, and so far they had been pretty predictable in their behaviour.

“Whatever you say. I still think we should have spent this time getting Vocus out of here, those tunnels might not be finished, but they can get a man out.” Serruns replied as he got up. “Let me have a look.” He requested as he went over to the window. Aulmus made room for Serruns. “You might be right, maybe not though. Seem like they are-”

“Status update?” A voice asked from the other side of the room. Both Turians scrambled to stand at attention, they knew the voice as Vocus’ voice. Firm and commanding, as ever. A tough old bastard.

“They haven’t made any moves yet, besides blasting warnings at us. Telling us to surrender or suffer. They might be getting ready for an assault, or hoping to starve us out.” Aulmus quickly answered the older Turian.

“Figured as much. They want me alive. Well, come and get me is what I say.” Vocus remarked as he too went to take a look.

“Sir, If I may.” Serruns requested.

“Go ahead soldier.” Vocus allowed him, but his voice told him to do it quickly.

“I still think we should get you out of here. Live to fight another day, we’ll hold them off for long enough for you to escape through the tunnels.” Serruns had already voiced this plan before, a few hours ago as a matter of fact. Vocus had shut him down back then, and he would probably do the same now.

“I’m not a coward! Any good leader will stand and fight! What do you think I am, a Salarian?” Vocus was visibly angered by this.

“I’m sorry Sir, I wouldn’t ask this of anyone else, but better you alive than dead or in the hands of those bastards I say. We need you to continue the fight, die here now, and this planet dies, along with everyone else on it.” Serruns tried to plead with him, it was probably useless.. But he wouldn’t want to see his Commander dead. He had served under him for over 5 years at this point.

Vocus tried to argue, he was about damn ready to smack the Turian in the back of the head at this besmirching of his rank and his honor. Yet… he was right. It went against all he believed in, hell it went against his very nature… But these sorry fellers couldn’t win a war against the invaders, not now and not ever… At least not without proper leadership. His name would surely burn because of this… But his men and the colony took priority over ancient honor.

“Alright… Show me where the tunnels are…”

* * *

**Outside the compound...**

“Oberst-Gruppenführer Hass! I-I hadn’t expected you... “ Ralph stood at attention, so firm his back felt like it was gonna snap at any time.

“Hauptsturmführer Ralph Heisenberg. Why hasn’t the compound been taken yet?” Siegmar Hass asked, his voice cold and reserved. His uniform was pristine, in stark contrast to Ralph’s uniform. Which was to be expected. Siegmar was, after all, the supreme commander of the entire operation, the entire war on the SS part as well.

“I’m sorry sir! I asked for permission to use artillery, but HQ denied it! Say the word, and we’ll take the place!” Ralph was ready to get on his knees and beg for his life. The mere assumption of disapproval in a superior officer’s voice was enough to have you sent to the firing range.

“No you idiot!” Siegmar smacked Ralph, backhanded across his cheek. Siegmar’s voice was now more angry. “I want Vocus alive. That dog needs to hang in the square. I want your men to take the compound and bring me him, ALIVE! Not level it to the ground!” Siegmar ordered, and it was clear that Siegmar thought he was speaking to the dumbest person in existence… In fact, everyone that wasn’t Siegmar, was clearly at least 40 points below him in the IQ scale.

“Of course sir! Right away sir!” Ralph quickly replied as he rubbed the sore area on his cheek. “Honigberg! Get the men ready!” Ralph turned around and ordered. WIthin seconds, the entire battalion were in position to storm the place. The two lucky men who were going to clear the path were Höffner and Spahr, two low level soldiers… But they were almost fighting each other for the honor.

All teams checked as the two men walked up to the wall. The Turian snipers could, very well, make this difficult for them all. Spahr went down, just before reaching the gate. Shot through the neck, and was now bleeding out.. And would probably be dead within the minute. Höffner was still in the race though, and he made it all the way to the gate before they shot him.

“FÜR DEUTSCHLAND!” He screamed as he set his suit to explode. It shook the ground and did what it was supposed to… Blew a massive hole in the gate and the surrounding wall.

* * *

**Inside the compound...**

“FÜR DEUTSCHLAND!” Was all they heard before the very ground made everyone fall straight on their ass. When they got on their feet again, they saw that it was on now… Men in black uniforms storming inside the compounds. The men posted at the front gate did all they could, but it was not enough.

“Vocus! You gotta go! NOW!” Serruns all but shoved Vocus down the narrow shaft to the tunnels. They would cover up the entrance with some furniture, as to give Vocus as much time as possible.

“THEY’RE COMING! GET READY!” Aulmus yelled from the front door of the main building.

“Spirits watch over you all.” Vocus said before he descended.

“Yes sir, and same to you.” Serruns replied as he closed the hatch and began throwing as much furniture and heavy items over the hole as possible. “You ready Aulmus?” Serruns asked as he joined his old friend.

“Always.” Aulmus answered as he trained his gun towards the door. They waited a few seconds before the door was kicked down by the invaders.

“See you on the other side.” Serruns said. Aulmus nodded to confirm.

“Verdammte Turians!” They could hear as the door was kicked down, and they poured in. Both of them kept firing, and never stopped. They had this standoff for over a minute before Aulmus was killed, single bullet through the head. Serruns took several bullets in the arm, legs and torso, but kept fighting. He kept fighting until the bitter end.

May the Hierarchy be victorious.

* * *

**Outside the compound...**

The sounds of battle waged ever higher as Oberst-Gruppenführer Siegmar Hass stood from a distance watching the whole spectacle unfurl. It was glorious, yet his only regret was that his men did not have the forethought to do this all sooner. Should an ample amount of them survive this, he will have to discipline a few by hanging to make a point, the SS does not accept cowards into its ranks. As gunshots could be heard and flashes from inside the compound were seen, Hass’ comms lit up.

“Oberst-Gruppenführer Hass, speak.” he answered the radio.

“Admiral Tristan Grothmann of the 4th fleet here, where are you Oberst-Gruppenführer?”

“Currently solving the issue of the Turians once and for all.” he turned away from the compound. “Soon we shall be capturing the leader of the Turian partisans and making an example of them all.”

“That’s all fine and good Oberst-Gruppenführer, however I wished to inform you of a simple dent in those plans.”

“And what would that be.” Hass could hear some form of chatter happening in the background from the Admiral’s side, no doubt just the staff performing operations around the bridge. “Another orbital bombardment.”

“Oh yes, several in fact, but not coming from us.”

“Come again?”

An explosion was heard coming from the Admiral’s side, followed by an alarm and several panicking staff members from the ship. “As you have no doubt heard Hass…” the admiral’s tone remained calm throughout all the commotion, which only served to confuse him more. “We are currently being demolished by a counter attack. We’re holding out for another day, but we estimate the enemy’s strength is at least three times greater than our own.” Tristan explained. Hass could hear shouting in the back of the comms call. No doubt from all the officers on the fleet trying to fight back.

“What do you mean you will hold out for another day? Surely, the Kriegsmarine can defeat these vermins?” Hass asked, his blood was beginning to boil. How dare they just pull out so soon? Did they have no honor at all?

“Strict orders from Großadmiral Gerhardt, and I’m inclined to agree. You have one day to evacuate this planet. My advice Oberst-Gruppenführer, get you and your men the hell out of there, were it not for you still being on the planet I would have evacuated already. Consider this my olive branch, from one arm to the other.” Tristian explained. It was an offer, the best one he was going to get no doubt. But the SS do not dabble in offers.

“I’ll have to speak with the Reichsführer first.” Hass hanged up. He wanted to keep fighting this war, wanted to take that prisoner alive, hang him from a light pole. But he also wanted to preserve the SS divisions, have them live to fight another day. Without the fleet, the SS were blind and vulnerable. No air support, no recon and no bombardment to keep the enemy down. No doubt the enemy fleet was bringing fresh troops to the fight as well. Hass called up the Reichsführer, if Lorenz didn’t pick up the phone, he would make a decision on his own.

“Speak.” The voice of Lorenz came from it.

“Heil Germania! This is Oberst-Gruppenführer Hass speaking. The Kriegsmarine have just told me that they are facing a large enemy force and are preparing to retreat from the system. They have offered me and my men to evacuate with them. What are your orders, sir?” Hass reported

“Acknowledged, no retreat, final orders.” the SS Führer seemed just about ready to hang up before Hass came in immediately.

“What?! Have you lost your damn mind you fucking moron?!” His simple yet nonchalant comment made Hass lose any sense of composure and respect for that turd of a man. “You are asking us to sit by and have ourselves get bombed! Is that it?!”

“You have your orders Oberst-Gruppenführer, now be a good Aryan and follow them. Do _not_ make me repeat them.” The Reichsführer spelled danger. He was serious, no doubt about it. But it only served to make Hass more angry.

Hass clenched his fist tightly. “You chinless fucking mongoloid… You utter untermensch! When I get back to Paris, I’ll make sure Obergruppenführer Armin personally has your head for this, you hear me?! I’LL BREAK YOU MYSELF!”

The SS Fuhrer did not answer, he no doubt hung up somewhere in-between Hass’ raging and spiteful speech, yet Hass did not care, he continued to scream and cuss that spineless dimwit before throwing the phone away. ”Obergruppenführer Philipp!” He called out, and the man came running as fast as he could. “Get the men rallied together. We’re leaving.” Hass ordered. He was, effectively, signing his own death warrant. The Reichsführer would not tolerate it. But he didn’t care. Hass was never someone anyone, not even he himself, would consider compassionate or kind-hearted by any means, but more importantly, he was not stupid. Abandoning this post now may give the Turians the edge, but land can be taken back if need be, soldiers and more importantly equipment could not. Push comes to shove, he’ll join up with some of his contacts in Ostland or Krim, perhaps throw his hat in with the Fuhrer, he would no doubt wish for someone on the inside in his ranks.

“Sir… Are you sure?” Philipp asked.

“Of course. Forget about that compound. We have one day to evacuate the entire colony. I want as much equipment saved as possible. We’ll fight another day.” Hass replied. That was the end of the discussion. He would face the music if need be, but for now, it was time for a tactical retreat.

Hass called up Tristan one more time with the broken phone. “Admiral, tell your carriers to be ready, we’ll be in the shuttles shortly.”

* * *

**10/6 2035.**

**Reichskanzlei Germania, Großgermanisches reich**

Ulfric rubbed his temple as he leaned back into his chair, it had been a good few days since he had slept a full 8 hours, hell at this point he would have taken even two. But the Reich does not sleep in War, and it seems the Führer does not as well.

He took a sip of his coffee as his guest and by now unofficial confidant in America sat across the table with a smirk on his face. “Tired My Fuhrer? Why it’s only-” he reached out his hand elaborately and checked his watch, “5 PM, quite early to be drinking coffee for you, you usually start at 7.”

“Very funny, mein Amerikanischer freund.” Ulfric often cherished these small moments he and Luke could spend some quality time bickering in his office, it was a nice reprieve from the bootlicking and treason both his own government and the SS would subject him to. These encounters were often nothing more than friendly spats however, with no threats of civil war looming over them, which was a reprieve. “How have you been Herr Davis?”

“Please, Mr. Davis was my father, call me Mr. President.”

“Isn’t that more formal though?”

“It is, we’re not friends.” Luke fired back. His face remained unfazed.

“Ever the snake you are.” Ulfric sighed. “Very well, _Mr. President._ ” he spoke the title in English, or as good an english accent a german man could do. “What is the situation on the Homefront?”

“Well my wife Debra keeps bitching at me that I don’t take her anywhere anymore, my son still hates me for not coming to his football game, and my daughter as well, also for not coming to my son’s football game.” Luke answered.

“Very funny.”

“And on the _other_ Homefront, well, it’s slightly less difficult. We got Dixiecrats on one side wanting to kick the Japs outta any city they occupy, and the Hippie Communist-Jews, or as my Vice calls ‘em, Liberals, on the other wanting to turn my country into a commune. And my secretary still wants me to go fishing with him and his brother.” Luke leaned in from his chair. “I don’t want to go fishing, Ulfric. You don’t know what fishing with the Wallace’s is like.”

“Fishing is overrated. I tried it once with my grandfather. Didn’t very much like it.” Ulfric replied as he once again rubbed his temples.

Just then Ulfric’s own secretary, Martin, came barging in the door with not even so much as a Heil Germania. “MEIN FÜHRER, A REPORT! TURIANS! SHIPS! THE FLEET!” Martin rushed towards the desk in a panic, a folder with documents and papers nearly flying out of his hands alongside some strange device on the other hand.

“Settle down Martin! What is the meaning of this?!” Ulfric snapped back to his status as Führer, people like Luke and Gottfried were all too aware of the stress this war had not only put on his nation’s industry and space force, but the Fuhrer’s own psyche. Still, that didn’t mean Germania needed to know. It was not as if he would think someone like Martin would be a spy for the Japanese, he simply didn’t trust him enough to not blurt it out accidentally.

“The Fleet, mein Führer! The Fleet!” The-” Martin continued on his exasperated tirade before Luke got up from his chair and smacked the secretary across the cheek.

“Settle down man and spit it out!” he quite literally slapped the sense into the man, out of turn, perhaps, needed, definitely.

“Y-yes…” Martin calmed down as he regained his composure, shaking himself out of the daze the American had put in him. “M-... Mein Führer, a report to you from die Front.” he stated, a certain fearful calm suddenly washing over Martin, no doubt in expectation that if he didn’t Luke would smack him again.

Ulfric opened the documents, another sigh escaping his lips. As the two men in front of him stood, he sat down back on his chair and read. Putting on his reading glasses that were on the table he scanned quickly through the reports, trying to get all the details in his head as quickly as he could. Martin and Luke were completely silent, one from fear, the other from stone-faced curiosity and expectation.

A fine minute of tension passed before Ulfric turned to the other paper and read through, his brow furrowing further and further as he did so. “Well?” Luke did not seem to take the anticipation with patience it seemed. “How’s it looking?”

“It is _looking_.” Ulfric removed his glasses and looked at his American confidant. “Like we just lost a major battle for sector dominance of the Mactare system. Großadmiral Gerhardt pulled the plug and got the SS and the fleets out of there…”

“That coward!” Martin interjected.

“And from what I’m reading…” Ulfric continued. “It was the right thing to do.” Ulfric added. He wasn’t an expert on combat in Space, Gerhardt had attempted to explain it to him once, but he might as well have been speaking Russian.

“That genius!” Martin corrected himself.

“Well damn, so where does that put us on the scale against those bug-faced bastards?”

“Puts us on the scale of _not very good_ Lucas, not very good at all.” he stroked his chin for a moment, thinking back on all the major operations and battles that have gone down in this past month of war alone. Despite his best estimations, the German War Machine was already losing steam, he could practically taste the Austerity measures being implemented.

While not broken and scattered, they had lost the advantage in this offensive, and the Turians, for all intents and purposes had them severely outnumbered and outgunned. He would have to order his men to start going on the offensive, Gottfried won’t like that, but he’ll understand, no point in throwing men at a steel wall hoping it will break down. A stalemate is what they were at right now, but in their position, a stalemate may as well be defeat right now. He did not know how many systems, planets, or even ships these Turians had under their control, but they most definitely outnumbered anything the Reich currently had or could produce on such short notice.

Flashes of his time as a soldier began to come back to him, those long days and nights defending the Hill he and Gottfried were stationed at, the flames dancing across the distance, his comrades being shattered apart by explosives and shredded RPG’s. How many days, how many weeks did they spend trapped on that hill, how many nights did the entire night sky become illuminated by the fires dancing from afar slowly turning into thick black smoke. All of it, all for one damn hill. All of this because of one damn ship.

As he slowly descended into a pit of despair over reliving memories of his time during the Oil Crisis, the Führer spotted that device Martin was holding alongside the documents also placed on this table. “What is this?”

“A…” Martin struggled to remember the words. “I believe it is a simple communicator that the Turians use, mein Führer.” he settled for the alternative.

“A communicator.” he hovered his hand over the device, careful not to lay a finger on it before he knew of why it was here in front of him.

“It is alright mein Führer, the SS have investigated it heavily, there are no traps or hidden contraptions within it. Merely… a message.”

As he laid his finger on it, Ulfric must have accidentally turned on some sort of switch for the device as it lit up, and a small blue hologram of a Turian showed up on top of it. He could not hide the fact he was just a tiny bit surprised by it, even spooked, but this was no new technology, and he already knew that the Turians had more advanced tech than them.

“Greetings, leader of Germania.” the Turian spoke in a language he had never thought to hear coming from one of these aliens, German. “If you are receiving this, then our envoy has successfully reached you, know that we send this message with the utmost respect for those who have fought in this war so far, and as such, we have come with an offering. A peace offering to be more exact.” his eyes widened at what he was hearing, and he had to rub the lids of them for just a second to realize that this was not some dream. “You are no doubt shocked at this message. However, with the recent events and operations that have taken place in this conflict, we believe that true diplomacy may win out over barbarism. The being you shall now see after me is from a species of our galactic federative council known as the Asari, a delegate of the Matriarchy for which we have chosen would be a good neutral party for our two sides to meet and delegate this affair.”

The hologram soon disappeared, only to be replaced with another, a figure he could only describe as far more humanoid as the Turians, all the way up to the head that is. A woman, with blue skin and strange tendril-like hair.

“Greetings _Mensch_ , I am an Envoy of the Asari Matriarchy, more importantly I represent a combined effort from this galaxy’s main peacekeeping force, the Citadel. As we have all been well aware ever since the tragic occurrences of your past lunar month, it would seem that a grave misunderstanding has happened between your two races of German and Turian, one we are incredibly distraught to not have intervened in sooner.” the three men listened to the alien woman’s speech with both intrigue yet confusion. While the German High Command was already aware of this, Lucas and Martin, people not within the “inner circle” so to speak, still had no clue nor information on the other races that were supposedly allied with the Turians. It was now almost a certainty that other life existed in space, and it would be foolish to believe the Turians were the only other intelligent lifeforms in the Galaxy, yet with these “Asari”, they seemed to possess far more humanized elements. Their posture, their looks, even their way of speaking seemed much more personalized in a way where a Human would say it.

‘ _That Turian was no doubt reading from one of the most wooden scripts in history if this is who I am comparing him to.’_ Ulfric thought.

“Both sides have suffered immense hardships in this war, and it is frankly shameful that First Contact should be made like this. It is for these reasons that the Citadel and its main races wish to offer Germania and its people an extended hand of friendship. If you respond positively to our request, a ceasefire will be signed effective immediately, and we will invite you to the Citadel, the hub of the Galaxy, for further peace talks. The Citadel is a neutral ground, where neither party has nothing to fear. Should you decline our offer, we will be forced to let this war continue, and further aggressions will result in our intervention on behalf of the Turians to bring a swift end to the conflict.”

The hologram turned itself off at the end of the Asari woman’s monologue. Leaving only the three men in silence to contemplate on the words they had just heard spoken to them.

“Damn.” Lucas broke the silence. “That chick’s got a nice ass on her.”

“Lucas you are married.” any sense of seriousness was immediately broken by the American’s comment.

“Hey listen my Fuhrer, Debra doesn’t mind where I rev my engine, just gotta park it in the right garage.”

“You utter fucking degenerate.” There was no time for tomfoolery however as Ulfric sighed once more and processed everything that had just happened. He could see his secretary shifting his weight from left to right, his eyes going from Lucas to him every few seconds. It was clear he wanted to say something.

“So… My Führer.” Martin stepped in. “What is this... truly?”

“This, my dear Martin.” he raised himself from his chair. “Is our ticket out of devastation.”


	12. Chapter 12: Treaty of the Citadel

**Chapter 12: Treaty of the Citadel**

_ “Germany will on her side never break the peace. Germany wishes to be on an honourable footing with the neighbour peoples.” _

  * Adolf Hitler 



**16/6 2035.**

**Citadel Airspace.**

A small number of warships had entered citadel airspace, enough to protect the Führer, but not enough to pose any major threat to the space station. Ulfric was nervous, he was about to sit face to face with not just the species that had been the enemy not even a week ago, but also all the other aliens on this so called council. He had prepared himself as much as possible, written as many notes as he could. An entire envoy of diplomats, statesmen and guards were with him, not to mention the three major Generals of the war machine: Generalfeldmarschall Gottfried Kürger, Luftmarschall Siegfried Stroman and Großadmiral Klaus Gerhardt. All of them were in pristine uniforms, with all the medals you could think of. 

That’s not to mention Ulfric’s personal SS guards were there to protect their Führer, should the aliens get any funny ideas. Everyone was concerned and worried at what might happen. This could very well be a sort of trap. Granted, the aliens had honored the truce so far. The fleets stayed in their respective systems. But that didn’t mean there couldn't be a squad of snipers waiting for them as soon as they disembarked. 

The small fleet was granted safe passage into the space station, and they docked with little to no issue. Ulfric found his hands were shaking, he felt as though this would not go down well, no matter what they agreed to. The Hardcore militarists and the SS desperately wanted to fight this war to the bitter end, and they wouldn’t stop until Palaven or Earth was burning. They would cry hypocrite as soon as they saw the Führer imposing peace, probably drawing parallels to ‘ _ The Stab In The Back _ ’ story from the First World War.. 

“Are you ready?” Gottfried asked as he took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke into the room. 

“It’s not about if I’m ready... This is about the Reich’s future, something we have to do. Even if the peace deal isn’t all we hoped for. I will settle for a status quo... if need be.” Ulfric replied as he looked at his oldest friend. 

“Status Quo? Really? After all we have endured? You’re willing to give it all away? What about all those soldiers who died fighting this war for the glory of the Reich?” Gottfried asked, he sounded generally offended. But he knew Gottfried well enough to know that if he wasn’t married to his wife, he would be married to the Wehrmacht. 

“I’m not gonna demand a Status Quo. I will push our interests as best I can, but the SS have probably complicated things beyond belief, not to mention we ended with a major defeat-” 

“Retreat! It was a tactical retreat!” Grand admiral Gerhardt corrected him.

“Right… We ended with a  _ tactical retreat _ . Yet I’m not sure they see it that way. Either way… I will do my utmost to ensure compensation for what has been destroyed… And those who lost their life… Don’t expect any territorial gains though.” Ulfric replied, truth be told, he was afraid of what laid ahead. Afraid of what might happen… What he wouldn’t do for just a couple of hours of dialogue with Adolf Hitler… So many questions he wanted to ask the man. 

_ How did you do it? How did you keep it all together? How did you deal with defeat? How come you were so great? How can I be more like you?  _

All of those questions ran through his head as he pictured the first Führer. But there were other questions too, some which he dared not mutter while in the presence of the others in the Reichstag and the party. 

_ Why did you let the SS live? Why did you pardon Himmler, exile him instead of sending him to the firing squad? Why did you have to die so soon?  _

All of those things would go unsolved forever. No one knew why Hitler did as he did, they just had to trust he did it for the right reasons… But if he could pull everything off… Then surely, there would be some way for Ulfric to do so as well. If only he had the power to do it. 

“Mein Führer! We have been granted access to the citadel docking! Should we proceed?” The Captain came in and asked. 

All of the state officials, the OKW… Everyone looked to him for an answer. It was his decision. He could end it here… Or he could keep it going. Give the SS and the militarists their wish of a long and painful war… Or he could keep his precious Reich afloat. He had to admit, he had no love for the Aliens. He too would enjoy to see the Reich’s banner raised over their homeworlds… But he loved the Reich too much to have it be destroyed now. 

“Yes. Proceed. We are ending this war now. Sieg Heil.” Ulfric demanded. And everyone in the room, whether they wanted to or not, instantly replied. 

“HEIL GERMANIA!” 

  
  


* * *

**20 minutes later.**

“One last chance, Ulfric. You can still turn around if you want.” Gottfried said as they stood at the door that would lead them into a new world. The Citadel. Ulfric looked at Gottfried and attempted to size him up. He knew the man better than most, and as he looked at him, he realized that Gottfried wanted this war to end as well. Despite his harsh comments, Gottfried would always be behind him, which was why he was asking Ulfric this very question. 

“This war has to end before we’re destroyed. If we don’t take the Peace deal now… Then next time they offer it… It may very well mean the destruction of the Reich. I don’t want the Reich to be destroyed… This war has been fought as best we could, but if we are to ever take on this foe… We need more time to prepare, time to build… Time to expand.” Ulfric answered his old friend. Gottfried looked content with the answer. 

“I’ll make sure the Wehrmacht accepts whatever peace deal you make with the Aliens… I don’t like dealing with these scum, I have already lost so many good men to them… But I trust you Ulfric. So does Gerhardt… Hell, even Stroman isn’t suicidal. Just worry about the party and the SS.” Gottfried assured him, and he was right. The SS were the major headache to deal with here. 

“Mein Führer?” Ulfric turned around to face Oberführer Bruno Seydel, the leader of his personal SS guards. The only SS people he could trust. They were cut off from the other part of the SS, removed from the influence of Burgundy. known as Leibstandarte SS Ulfric Kuhn or LSSUK, born out of the former division that safeguarded the first Führer. “We’re ready to disembark at any moment. I have brought my finest men, 48 to be precise. Two squads will secure the dock before you leave the ship. We’ll move in formation once you’re out. For safety purposes, also let the guard secure an area before you move there.” Bruno explained. 

“I understand…” Ulfric replied as he tried not to think about the possibility that some crazy gun man would try and put a bullet in him. 

“Now, we don’t know their cultures and customs. But for the sake of your health, we advise you to avoid all physical contact, handshakes, hugs and the like. Do not consume any drinks or food they may offer. The ship's cooks will prepare all of your meals while on your stay here. We will ensure you stay alive mein Führer. Heil Germania.” Bruno gave a salute, his arm almost at a perfect 45 degree angle. Ulfric returned the salute. “Do we have your permission to start the operation, mein Führer?” Bruno inquired as he stood at attention. 

“Yes… Let us get this thing over with. I’ll await your confirmation that it is safe to disembark.” Ulfric said as he paced around a bit, shifting his balance. 

“Understood mein Führer.” Bruno turned to face his soldiers, and promptly shouted some orders. Within seconds, they stood ready to go out. They were armored up like they were rolling into Stalingrad, Bruno gave another order, and the two squads disappeared into the airlock. Ulfric waited anxiously for news. 

In times like these, a man must think of the best ways to make a good first impression. In all honesty he had not thought about something like that in decades. Being the Führer often meant it was others trying to make a good impression on you, rather than vice-versa. But here, he was no longer the Führer of Germania, the ruler of the Reich, the ruler of all of Germany and its peoples. Here he was merely the leader of some foreign nation these Star empires have never even heard of.

Straightening his tie, Ulfric heard the automatic doors to his side open up and two figures enter into the room, ones he had not seen in quite a while.

“Herr Stroman, glad to see you’ve finally decided to join us.” Ulfric said.

“Heil Mein Führer, and a fine day to you as well Herr Kürger.” he was as chipper as ever, which was no surprise to Ulfric nor Gottfried, what was a surprise however was the woman standing next to him, the Luftmarshall’s own wife.

“Alberta, I didn’t expect you to be joining us here.” Ulfric commented as the Hitler stood in tow with her husband.

“And miss out on the opportunity to see all these mythical  _ ‘xenos’ _ my husband keeps talking about? I won’t lie mein Führer, I’m rather giddy.”

“Well, good to see at least someone’s excited about this whole ordeal.”

Just then, Großadmiral Gerhadt came into the room as well. “Apologies for the wait, Mein Führer. It’s been a while since I’ve travelled in a ship not personally commandeered by mine own crew. You’ll forgive me if I do not trust these SS men in flying a ship.” Gerhadt had always been picky about with whom he sailed, but granted this situation was anything but ordinary. 

“These SS men are my personal guard, Gerhardt. If you can trust anyone in black uniform, it’s them. They are loyal only to me.” Ulfric reassured the old admiral. Gerhardt accepted the answer without any objections. 

Just then, Oberführer Bruno entered back into the airlock. He removed his helmet once the decontamination process was over. “Mein Führer. The Dock has been secured for any and all threats. There is already a welcome party waiting for you. Are you ready to head out?” Bruno asked cautiously, it was clear that his personal opinion was different from Ulfric’s. He wanted them to bolt, get out of this system as fast as possible. Too many variables here, too many obvious threats. 

“Very well then Bruno, open the airlock. We’re ready.” Ulfric commanded as he stepped forward and put on his visor cap. Nicely brown, just like the one Adolf Hitler used to wear. 

Bruno did not seem to be using hyperbole when he mentioned the waiting party, as soon as the airlock opened up, a blinding ray of light hit them dead on from the small crack that soon began expanding from the outside. It was good that he and Gottfried were using shades, unfortunately for his other compatriots they were not so forward thinking, and were visibly trying to block out the light as best they could without raising their hands to block it. He was forewarned by his bodyguards of the Citadel’s apparent artificial sun they used for lighting the interior, so both him and Gottfried came prepared.

They stepped out into a brave new world. The SS guards were close in toe, forming rectangular perimeter around them. They were soon greeted by a stunned crowd of onlookers, not even attempting to hide their gawking from the rafters above as a group of delegates stood proudly at the entrance, a figurative red carpet practically being thrown out for them.

Ulfric recognized a few of said species almost immediately, the most prominent being said delegation, consisting entirely of Asari and Salarians from what he could tell.  _ ‘Good, no Turians. Yet at least.’ _ better that way, wouldn’t want to start a firefight the moment you got on enemy soil.

A Salarian approached them, some strange device in his hands, it looked from his clothes he was part of security as Ulfric could differentiate the armor he wore with that of the more robed attire of the diplomats. The LSSUK however, did not seem very welcoming, immediately forming a line in between his compatriots and the Salarian. For what it was worth, and to their credit, they didn’t immediately reach for their weapons, merely scanning the security guard up and down, eventually landing on the small devices in his hand. The Salarian tried to speak in perhaps one of the most broken excuses of German he had ever heard.

_ “No harm… Trans-la-tor.” _

He huffed, appreciating the Salarian for the effort at least. Gottfried leaned in to whisper something in his ear. “Heard fucking Japs with better pronunciation.” Ulfric didn’t reply, but came a confirmation nod to the SS soldier, who in turn installed it in their systems. Within seconds, the system was live and running. 

“Welcome to the Citadel! I’m Pheollne M'kito, personal secretary to the Asari councilors. I will be showing you around while you are here! Are there any questions before we depart for the council chambers?” She asked. 

“Yeah, where can I get a pack smoke-” Gottfried immediately piped up before Ulfric cut him off.

“No, we don’t have any questions. Please, take us to the council chambers.” Ulfric requested, answering way before the Oberführer said anything. Despite their racial politics, Ulfric couldn’t afford to be seen as discriminating right now. He needed it all to play in his favor. 

“Excellent, please follow me then!” the chipper attitude of the Asari seemed almost palpable to the situation at hand. This wasn’t some play date being arranged, it was a peace deal convention. Still, Ulfric did not complain, and the human delegation followed the Asari and Salarians. The further in they got past the docks, the more different species of aliens there seemed to be, all equally curious to see this brand new race that landed on their Citadel. The LSSUK made sure no one got too close, and Bruno kept a firm eye on Ulfric to ensure his safety at all times.

This wasn’t something new. Whenever Ulfric travelled anywhere that wasn’t within the Reich, a massive presence of the LSSUK was always there, keeping him safe. In the beginning it was tedious. But as time went on, it did make him feel safe. There had already been a few people who had tried to get close enough for a shot at him, but they never made it within 50 yards of him. 

Ulfric began to admire this place. The Citadel was a marvel of technology, something that the Reich was trying to replicate. A space station was already set up in the Sol System, and a few more were getting constructed in various important systems. His fellow statesmen, and the representatives of the OKW seemed equally as impressed. Though if he knew Gottfried well enough, he was already taking mental notes on the weak spots. Should it ever be necessary to invade this space station. 

* * *

  
  


After walking for about 20 minutes, with their Asari guide telling them about each place they passed through, they reached the tower in the middle of the presidium. A large and otherwise impressive building to mark the authority of the Council. It didn’t hold a candle to the Volkshalle, or most government buildings in Germania. Speer made sure of that long ago. 

They entered the elevator that would take them up, and instantly it was crammed with all the people who were going up there with them. Ulfric wondered if perhaps the elevator could even handle all of this weight, but shook the thought from his head. No doubt they had foreseen something like this a long time ago. But, that being said, it was also a rather slow elevator. Taking forever before they reached the very top. 

Gottfried gave Ulfric a small nod as the elevator came to a halt. A silent ‘ _ I got your back _ ’ look, as if it was going to calm his nerves even a bit. The LSSUK were the first to move out, and they promptly secured the area for any and all threats. Keeping their guns trained on the police force present. It took a little longer to secure the area than usual, and Ulfric got to see why when he stepped out. Not only was the council chambers large, but there were also a lot of Turian guards. 

_ ‘I suppose it was only a matter of time _ ’ Ulfric thought, but luckily no one exchanged any fire. They might be staring each other down, but as long as they kept it to that… Then there would be little to no issues. They proceed through the massive room, passing several beautiful trees, that Ulfric could only assume was native to one of the species homeworlds. The mood was torn between being peaceful and full of tension. As Ulfric pondered all of these things as they arrived at the room that no doubt would serve as the negotiation table. Several Turians, Asari and Salarians were already seated at the table. They all rose when they saw them come in. 

“IS THIS SOME SORT OF JOKE?” One of the Turians erupted as soon as he spotted the black uniforms and the two lighting bolts on the helmets and collars of the LSSUK. 

“Palilienus, please!” One of the Asari’s at the head of the table said. Hoping to de-escalate the situation no doubt. Hadn’t even been 5 seconds, and there was already shouting. 

“They are murderers! Criminal thugs! They destroyed half of Taetrus!” The Turian was furious beyond belief. No doubt the SS were already proving themselves a headache, that seal of approval Lorenz was given was coming back to bite Ulfric in the ass harder than ever. 

“These-” Ulfric gestured to all of his SS guard, who stood at attention. Ready to attack if need be. “-Are my personal bodyguard. They have no connection to the command link of the SS, and they answer only to me. I will not conduct this meeting without my personal guards.” Ulfric’s voice was much more firm than he had imagined. Perhaps it was mostly because his own bodyguards got a bad reputation because of the actions of Burgundy. The Turian seemed to calm down, just a little bit. 

“Terribly sorry about that. But you must understand that Mr. Palilienus is rather on edge these days, especially after hearing of what happened on Taetrus.” The Asari woman tried to excuse him. Ulfric decided to tolerate it, not like pressing the issue would do him much good. “I’m councilor Tevos, representing the Asari republics. Both the Asari and the Salarians will be acting as mediators to this peace deal. This-” Tevos pointed to a Salarian in robes. “-Is councilor Valern of the Salarian union. And finally, the Turian councilor is Sparatus.” She once again pointed to a Turian seated next to the man who had just been shouting moments earlier. “Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.” Tevos requested as she herself sat down. Ulfric did as requested, and most of the other high ranking members took a seat as well. 

It had been organized rather cleverly. The Reich seated on one side, the Turians on the other… And finally the council at the head of the table. Almost textbook. Ulfric already locked eyes with several of the Turians on the other side of the table, who seemed less than pleased that they were forced to be here. Ulfric could see the same look in Gottfried and Klaus. 

“First order of business; attendees on the German side?” Tevos asked. The team of people behind her who were going to write the summary of the meeting were ready to type. Even the ones the Reich brought along were ready. 

Ulfric once again stood up. “My name is Ulfric Kuhn. Führer of Das Großgermanisches Reich.” Furious typing was heard, before everything became quiet again. Then, each person presented themselves and their title. Großadmiral Gerhardt, Generalfeldmarschall Kürger, Luftmarschall Stroman, and countless statesmen. The Turians followed suit with giving their names. As the round came to a close, the Asari ordered everyone to be seated again. 

“Now, this war has been titled many different things, including: Reich-Hierarchy war, Relay 314 incident, First Contact War and German-Turian war. Which should be the official title?” Tevos asked, and immediately disagreements between the Turians and the Germans erupted. The Turians insisted that it should be titled the Relay 314 incident, but the Germans wanted it to be named the German-Turian war. In the end, after much bickering, agreement was reached. The war should be named the Reich-Hierarchy war. This debate had gone on for almost 15 minutes before they reached any sort of agreement. It was already clear to the council members that both species were very proud, neither side wanted to back down. 

“Now, are both sides in agreement that the war started on the... '' Tevos checked her notes. “The 6th of May 2035?” She asked, and both sides nodded. “Okay, who started the conflict?” She then inquired, and the first real shouting match began. 

“The Reich is very clearly the ones who started the conflict. They were attempting to open Relay 314, which is outlawed by Citadel Law Section 463, Delta 9 under the Rachni containment act. The Hierarchy was well within its rights to stop the unlawful act from proceeding.” Palilienus stood up and argued. The Turian councilor was in agreement. 

“BULLSHIT! The Turians fired the first shot. We were attempting to open a Relay, like we had done so many times before. We were not aware of any Citadel laws, we didn’t even know that a  _ ‘Citadel’  _ existed!” Gerhardt all but jumped out of his seat to voice his disapproval. 

“Can you prove this?” Tevos asked as she looked over at the old Admiral. Gerhardt went through his briefcase, and quickly pulled out a small data disc. 

“This Disc contains the log of interaction between the Turians and the Reich on the 6th of May 2035.” Gerhardt slid it across the desk. One of the technical supporters, a Salarian, quickly played the disc for the entire room. It showed the German ships attempting to communicate and de-escalate the conflict. It was clear as day, the Turians had fired a warning shot, but misfortunate had played it’s cruel hand. It just so happened that a ship coming in from the Relay was shot. War at that point was unavoidable. 

“We acted in good faith, and tried to ensure no hostilities, as per our first contact protocol. Now, the Turians may have been forgiven if they attempted peace right after that, but they didn’t. Their next course of action was an invasion of our colony Göringstadt.” Ulfric sold his case perfectly. The Turians didn’t raise any objections to who caused the war, that responsibility laid on their shoulders. The Asari wrote it down. 

“Now, I’d like to talk a bit more about Göringstadt. Our colony was bombarded from orbit and then invaded. Both soldiers and civilians alike lost their life during the invasion and week long occupation. Since the Turians escalated the conflict to this point, I think it’s only fair that every man, woman or child who lost anyone on that colony should receive compensation, effective immediately. Not to mention the damage to buildings, infrastructure and military installations. Of which we want reparations to rebuild the colony. This is non-negotiable.” Ulfric spoke with pure passion. He had met with some of the widows after the colony had been retaken. They deserve to get full compensation. Suddenly, as those images flooded his mind, his voice became more firm and commanding. 

The Asari once again noted it down. Tevos looked over at the Turians then. “Any objections?” She asked, and surprisingly, they had none. That’s not to say they were happy about it, it was quite clear they were pissed off. But for some reason, they must have found the terms fair. Once the Asari had written it down, Palilienus stood up again and cleared his throat. 

“We agree to those terms… But we need to discuss what happened on  _ our  _ colonies as well. Both the German army and the-” Palilienus was cut off by the sound of Gottfried lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag of it. Everyone looked to the field marshal with a curious look. 

“Oh please, don’t stop on my accord.” Gottfried gestured for the Turian to go on and took another drag of his cigarette. 

“-As I was saying. The German army and the so-called ‘SS’ committed countless atrocities on our colony. Namely Taetrus. We desire the immediate destruction of the SS and to have the German army cut down in size to prevent anything like this from happening again.” Palilienus commanded, and he was dead serious about it. Gottfried put his cigarette down in the ashtray, cleared his throat and stood up.

“The Wehrmacht, and the Deutsche Heer acted honorably on the colonies of which it occupied. I have brought reports along to verify this is true, alongside a survey of the general Turian opinion on the occupation force. Now, there were some misunderstandings that happened, in which some civilians were killed. The Officers responsible for this have since been punished for their actions. But the lack of any noteworthy resistance is enough to tell us that our presence was peaceful.” Gottfried handed out the copies of the report, which also included several discs. The council went on to review it, while the Turians were looking very displeased. 

An hour or so later, the Turians came around and decided to leave out the demand that the Wehrmacht be cut in half. There was little to nothing to indicate that the Wehrmacht hadn’t acted justly in their occupation. But that still left the issue of the SS, and once again Palilienus demanded that the SS be disbanded. This time, it was Ulfric who stood up. He never once in his life thought he would mutter these words. 

“... The SS on Taetrus acted unjustly. The orders I gave to the SS Reichsführer did not entail what happened there. The Reich, and myself, were not kept updated on what happened on the Turian colony. For these actions, I deeply apologize... “ Ulfric bowed his head very slightly down. Not a show of submission, but enough to show that it truly wasn’t the point. “However, we can’t disband the SS. If we do that, then the SS will go into open revolt, and if they win a power struggle… Then I can assure you that this war will not end until one of our species is extinct.” Ulfric tried to explain, hoping they would understand. 

“I don’t care! The SS must go! This is not something up for discussion.” Palilienus demanded through gritted teeth. 

Once again tensions were reaching boiling points. So thick you could drink it like soup. Ulfric was worried it would escalate into violence. He could only think of one way they could solve this as civilly as possible. “A compromise perhaps?” Ulfric asked as he adjusted himself in his seat. The Asari looked at him with an approving look. The Turians were not entirely disgusted with the thought. “I can’t dissolve the SS, since it would mean the death of countless people. However, I can promise you that any and all Officers who stood for the unjustly acts committed on Taetrus will be brought to justice-” 

“Through fair trials?” Tevos asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Of course.” Ulfric replied with a slight smile. It was a lie, the trials were already decided. Death for all officers, and they would happen fast, quick and in a hurry. “This is the best deal I can offer.” Most of the statesmen, the OKW and even his own SS guards seemed on board with the idea. None of them held any love for the Officers who commited the war crimes on Taetrus. It was quiet in the room as the Turians spoke among themselves on how to proceed. Ulfric was holding out hope that they would accept, make this as painless as possible. Ulfric was also trying to process how the SS were going to react to this… Sure, they would be pissed off… but it was better than to be disbanded…  _ Right _ ? 

“We agree to those terms. However, we want some of our judges to look over the proceedings.” Palilienus spoke for them all. 

“Of course. We’ll hold the trials on our space station in the Sol System. The Turian judges shall be welcome to come and observe so that there are no notions of foul play, but we will render judgement.” Ulfric answered them, and they nodded. That went all more smoothly that Ulfric imagined. 

The talks went over for several more hours, only interrupted by small breaks and a 2 hour dinner break, in which the food was brought up from the warships still sitting in the docks. So far, it didn’t seem as hopeless as Ulfric might have envisioned it. But he did realize that once it was all over, the Reich would still be on thin ice with the council. But, that being said… The doors were being opened. The Reich was joining a new community among the stars. 

They discussed the Prisoners of war, in which both parties agreed to hand over all the POWs captured during the month-long conflict. After that had been discussed and agreed upon, they went on to the next point: territorial gain. Ulfric assured the Turians that the Reich had made no claims to the Turian colonies, and would leave them as soon as the treaty was signed. Likewise, Palilienus made it clear that the Turians would not demand any colonies from the Reich. The Fleets would pull back, and all troops would be taken home. 

The Asari suggested a demilitarized zone in a few systems between the Reich and the Hierarchy. Nothing noteworthy was in the systems, and the Reich hadn’t planned on stationing anything there, so both sides agreed for the sake of building some level of trust.

After a few more hours, Tevos stood up with her notes. “This is what has been agreed so far: The Turian Hierarchy carries the blame for starting and escalating the Reich-Hierarchy war and is required to pay reparations for the damage done to the colony of Göringstadt. All SS officers who commited war crimes on Taetrus will face trial by the Reich, supervised by Turian judges. All prisoners of war must be released back to their respective domain. the Reich will pull out their military of the Turian systems and a demilitarized zone shall be enacted to ensure both sides honor the treaty. Are there any objections?” Tevos asked after reciting the entire treaty, nicely named ‘ **The Treaty of the Citadel’** . 

No one spoke up, so everyone were, at least in some sense, happy with what had been agreed upon. 

“Are there any closing statements?” Tevos then looked around and asked. Ulfric said yes and stood up, which seemed to equally surprise everyone involved in the meeting. 

“Just a few months ago, I considered myself to be the supreme ruler of not just Germany or Earth, but the entire known galaxy…. Now? I see how mistaken I was, how much more grand the scale actually is. I shall announce to my people that the Reich will join a brave new order, and for her part. The Reich will always keep the peace.” Ulfric spoke the truth, there were no lies in there, as least not as far as he envisioned. But, that didn’t mean that circumstances couldn’t change in the future. Perhaps one day, they would be at war again… But much like Prussia did to Austria in 1866, there was no humiliation. 

**“HEIL GERMANIA!”**

* * *

**23/6 2035.**

**The Reichsführer’s office, Ost Paris.**

SS-Oberst-Gruppenführer Jörn Husch remained as unfazed as he could, despite all the stuff being thrown around the room, a few small busts almost hit him in the head. He watched as the Reichsführer was tearing his office apart, screaming and cursing the Führer at the tops of his lungs. 

“ULFRIC YOU FUCKING JUDEO-BOLSHEVIK! YOU TRAITOR TO THE REICH! I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN, I SHOULD HAVE FUCKING KNOWN!” Hans Lorenz threw his chair halfway across the room and flipped over his table, the dozens of documents and reports currently on it flying away. 

“Reichsführer, if I may?” 

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Hans yelled as he threw his pen at the man. “YOU ALL FAILED ME! THE REICH HAS FAILED ME! I SHOULD KILL YOU ALL!” Hans was running out of breath, so to compensate he smashed his own mirror. The concept of 7 years of bad luck meant nothing to him right now. “He made peace with the god damn ALIENS? WHY? BECAUSE HE IS A TRAITOR! A RAT! A FUCKING JEW!” Lorenz went right back into screaming and tearing apart the walls of his office. Jörn tried his best to not get in the Reichsführer’s way. 

“I should march on Germania right now… Show them who is in charge! Because clearly the Führer isn’t! That fucking rat…” Hans muttered as he paced around his office, looking for more things to destroy. His rage uncontrollable. This act of treachery would not go unpunished, Lorenz swore on it. He picked up his chair and sat down in it, trying to catch his breath. When suddenly a thought crossed his mind. 

“Wait a minute…” He said to himself as he stood up again and went over to the window. “perhaps… If…” His mind began to race a thousand miles a minute, formulating a new sort of master plan. He instantly went looking for the original document that the Oberst-Gruppenführer had brought him of the peace treaty. He was on all fours, desperately turning every paper until he found it again. “Yes… YES, it could work!” Hans was laughing like a mad man. 

“Reichsführer… What do you mean?” Jörn asked, almost concerned for the mental health of the Reichsführer. 

“This is my chance…  _ Our  _ Chance! We’ll play ball with Germania and the Führer… And we’ll get rid of the troublemakers in the process… As it turns out, a lot of officers were involved in that invasion.” Hans laughed and laughed as he turned to the window and looked out. “Ah yes… This is perfect. You played right into my hand, you fucking jew.” He muttered, as if he was talking to Ulfric himself. 

* * *

  
  


**28/7 2035.**

**Reich space station, Sol System.**

Siegmar Hass was brought into the room. No longer dawning his pristine SS uniform, instead wearing a simple suit. He was escorted to his place by the Wehrmacht guards, he should have seen this coming long ago, that they would in the end sell him out. He wasn’t even angry at the court, or the Führer for that matter… The only thing he wanted was to strangle the Reichsführer with his own bare hands. 

It was silent, except for his own footsteps as he was placed at the desk. His handcuffs were a little tight, but otherwise he couldn’t complain. He just wished he could have attended in his uniform and not the suit. He looked over to the side, and saw several Turian judges sitting there. He stared at them.

There was quite the crowd, equal amounts human and xeno, yet he could mainly focus on the aliens. The looks they were giving him, the utter hatred and contempt. He frankly relished in all of it. It was the humans sitting besides them that was the real problem. Traitors all of them.

“I do not recognize this court as legitImate.” Siegmar stood up and said. 

“Noted, now please take a seat Herr Hass.” the judge overruled his objections almost immediately. Putting on his spectacles, the farce had begun. “Now, Siegmar Hass, the court accuses you of multiple counts of criminal offenses committed on the battlefield ordered directly by you and performed by the men under your command. Furthermore, you are accused by the representatives of the Turian Hierarchy for committing several war crimes on the colony of Taetrus. What do you say in your defense?” The judge leaned forward and asked. 

“Not guilty.” that got a rise out of several of the onlookers within the jury.

“Explain.” the judge narrowed his eyes, slowly removing the spectacles surrounding them in disbelief. He was told before this whole charade that it was expected of him to simply plead guilty to get this all over with as quickly as possible. Oh, if only he would make it so easy for them. He had long since come to terms with his fate, now in front the very men that shall send him to the firing squad, his last legacy in life will be this moment.

“I do not deny my actions, your honor. Indeed, what man can deny such…  _ atrocities _ . I have ordered killings, hangings, bombings, gassings. All of it, I did it, yes! I did it, and all of you here take note of what I say next…” he panned around the courtroom, the disorder spreading faster than he expected already. “I’D DO IT ALL AGAIN!” chaos practically erupted in the courtroom, only stopped by the judge’s gavel striking down repeatedly.

“ORDER!” the man bellowed, and soon calm washed over the crowds. “Herr Hass, you have openly admitted to your crimes, yet you plead not guilty. Explain yourself or I shall have you dragged out here with what little dignity you have left cut out.”

“Your honor, how can a man who simply loves his country be guilty of these crimes. Accusing me of committing war crimes is like handing out speeding tickets on the Autobahn… Utterly pointless. Everything I did, I would do a thousand times over, if it meant protecting Germany and the Reich from these sub-vermin  _ filth _ !” yet another round of roars. The jury practically had no place there anymore as they quickly were overruled by the common crowd in their calls for Hass’ sentence. “What  _ crimes _ am I guilting of? Many, for one, I am guilty of trusting you degenerates in keeping with the true beliefs of Nation Socialism. I am guilty of following orders, as any true Aryan would, and I am also guilty of subverting said orders when they were clearly meant to sabotage our war efforts for petty political squabbles! Oh yes indeed I am a guilty man your honor, I am guilty of being a true believer in the tenants of Adolf Hitler. I am guilty in believing in the Aryan Race’s clear supremacy!” Oh how much he wanted to wrap his hands around the rat Lorenz’s neck right now, to see the life draining from his eyes or to snap it all from him in an instant. Reality, unfortunately, is not a fairy tale, and it seemed that this tale would soon end in Hass’ demise.

One last time the judge struck down his gavel. “Very well then Herr Hass, per your own words you have declared yourself guilty. This court officially recognizes your crimes and sentences you to death by firing squad. The court shall now go in recess.”

* * *

  
  


“Good Lord, does that man have a flare for the dramatics.” Ulfric watched the entire trial over a large monitor in the meeting room alone with Gottfried.

“Pretty good final speech to go out on honestly.” Gottfried lit a cigar. “You think he’ll have any last words before they shoot him?”

“Probably something about degeneracy or the fall of the Reich.” he predicted. At some point, all of the SS become so predictable in their ways that Ulfric found them the easiest to read. Blind fanaticism will only get you so far however, and no matter how  _ ‘loyal’  _ you are to anything, a bullet can still pierce your heart all the same.

A knock from the door, proceeded by Martin coming in with a tray of two cups. “Your coffee, Mein Führer.”

“Ah, thank you Martin.” he grabbed one of the coffee cups off the tray alongside Gottfried.

“You know, we don’t have to sit through all of this. Or are you expecting one of them to be carrying a bomb in their tooth or something?” Gottfried asked as he leaned back into his seat. 

“No, they’ve all already accepted their fate. I just want to see how much of our time they’re going to be wasting with it, and if they happen to have a change of heart mid-way to death.” Ulfric replied as he took a sip of the coffee. 

“So in other words, you just want to waste both our time.” He downed the entire pipping hot cup of coffee in a single round. Not surprising to Ulfric, yet the clear opposite to Martin, who didn’t know about the Marshal’s penchant for hot drinks, to a near inhuman level honestly.

“Would you rather be at home with your wife?” Ulfric retorted.

“Get me another coffee Martin. It’s gonna be a long night.”

No matter what happens today, history will show the trials to be necessary. 


	13. Chapter 13: Take the bull by the horns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys! Hope all of you doing well now that we are moving towards spring.  
> This is just a small chapter. We'll have maybe 2 or 3 more chapter before moving on to the ME1 events. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Kind regards  
> KanisRussell.

**6/4 2051.**

**Embassy of the Greater Germanic Reich, Citadel.**

That little bust of Ulfric that sat on Alexander’s desk was getting more and more annoying to look at as the days passed by. It was like a constant reminder that the Führer himself had placed him here, far from Germania and without influence on the internal politics of the Reich. 

But that’s not to say Alexander Jäger’s new position was useless, quite the opposite in fact. As the main ambassador to the Citadel for the German Reich, Alexander had enormous influence over the dialogue and general relationship with the other aliens in the Galaxy… There were however things he could do without… Like having to look those filthy Aliens in the eyes, and shake their hand. He always felt the constant need to wash his hands with soap under warm water after dealing with them. Not to mention their complete arrogance, and insistence that they were just as valuable as the Aryan race was… How wrong they were. 

He had been here for the last three years, pushing his way upwards the Reich’s social ladder. He did enjoy working in the embassy, built exclusively for the Reich and it’s ambassadors. It overshadowed the much smaller embassies next door, where the aliens had to share quarters with each other. Amazing what threats are able to achieve on the Citadel, it was even the Reich’s own soldiers who stood guard out front. This was, without a doubt, a little piece of the Reich in an unholy land. A safe haven in a sea of scum. 

The sound of an incoming call pulled Alexander out of his thoughts. He quickly put his papers back in order, and went over to answer the Hologram call. He already knew who it was, and prepared himself accordingly before answering. Adjusting his party uniform so it sat perfectly, he accepted the call and saw the figure of one of his main benefactors looking back at him, wearing a SS Oberst-Gruppenführer uniform. 

“Heil Germania!” Alexander quickly gave a salute, of which the figure returned. He was a man known by many names, often to the point that people forgot the man’s real name. 

“I hope you are doing well.” The figure greeted. 

“Of course Herr Oberst-Gruppenführer. I am well, and yourself?” Alexander asked as he remained firm in his posture. 

“I can’t complain, Ambassador. There are plenty of good things unfolding in the Galaxy in these unique times we live in. But… what’s the situation on your end Herr Ambassador?” The figure asked back, while he remained seated in his chair on the other end of the call. 

“Exactly as you predicted. Chaos in the council. The Batarians are angry at the recent developments in the Attican Traverse. The Führer himself has authorized me to protect German interest before the council.” Alexander explained proudly. With the expansion of colonies into the Traverse, the Reich was both getting stronger, and their enemies weaker. The Council had in a sense given the go ahead to the Reich, promising to not interfere in their interest in the region. The Batarians however… They were furious, calling it treason by the council, since they considered those areas of Batarian interest. 

“Good, now it’s time for you to do your job. I’m very proud of you son, you have done well so far. Now it’s just a matter of hammering the deal home. Afterwards, we’ll get to work on getting the mission done. When is the next meeting with the council?” The figure asked as he took a drag of his cigarette. 

“In about 2 hours. The Batarian ambassador will also be there, to voice his disapproval no doubt.” Alexander replied with a smile, of which the figure returned. 

“Good. I wish you luck, Alexander. Call me if you need anything else. Sieg Heil.” The figure signed off. 

“Heil Germania!” 

* * *

  
  


**2 hours later.**

**Council chambers.**

Alexander had to admit. The presidium was beautiful in it’s own way, the lake and the sun worked wonders together. The artitecture, while not on level with the Reich, was still easy on the eyes. Too bad it was often hard to see from the amount of SS guards that escorted him, armored up like they were rolling into Stalingrad in 1942. Even so many years later, and a surprisingly peaceful presence, there were still aliens out there who wanted to take a shot at the Reich, and being the ambassador meant Alexander was the de facto face of the Reich on the Citadel. To the Council races, he might as well have been the Führer. 

The Aliens would never understand the internal Reich politics. They would never understand how different each person was. There are 4 factions in the Reichstag worth mentioning, and yet the aliens saw it was a unified force. That’s not to say there wasn't truth to the Alien’s beliefs. The Führer unified them into a single force, and sent their aggression outwards instead of inwards, but even so, there were plenty of people who wanted to try the crown on for size. 

People like his benefactor. Der Erlkönig… Sometimes called the Shadow Führer as well. Alexander was not blind, even the SS had their fair share of factionalism. But the Erlkönig supported Alexander and his cause, and in turn Alexander found himself agreeing with the Erlkönig on many aspects of Reich’s foreign policy. 

The Council Chambers were grand, located at the very top of the Presidium. Alexander understood the message they were trying to send. They were important, and you had to take a long elevator ride to even get there. Clearly, they wanted to be seen as God, the ultimate authority in the Galaxy. They weren’t the only one with that wish. 

He walked confidently towards the council meeting chamber, where he could see the sour looks of all those waiting for him. The three councilors, as well as the Batarian ambassador. He smiled as he took his place. Just waiting for this to go the way he envisioned. This meeting would surely go down in history, one way or another. 

“Ambassador Jäger. We have been waiting for you. Are you-” councilor Tevos started, but was cut off by Councilor Sparatus. 

“Are we just going to stride over the fact the Ambassador made us wait 10 minutes?!” Sparatus erupted. The Turians would never forget the Reich-Hierarchy war, and neither would the Germans. But that being said, the ice had been very slowly thawing over the past 16 years since the guns went silent. They would never admit it, but even the Hierarchy imported German goods, mostly things like Medi-gel. Usually produced under license. 

“Please excuse me, there was trouble in getting here, councilors. I am ready to begin however.” Each move Alexander made was calculated. He had all the experience in the world after having served as Ambassador to Japan for a number of years. 

“You are excused, Herr Ambassador. We have a lot to talk about, so let us get started.” Councilor Valern brushed it off easily, the Salarians were cowards, and hated conflict. Preferring an indirect approach. It was amazing how much Alexander had learned during his time in the Ambassador role. He knew how each Councilor conducted themself, what they did in their free time, their interest and love life. He had enough black mail to make any senior SS officer blush. Alexander nodded to showcase he was content with moving forward with the issue at hand. 

“The Batarian Ambassador Kocor Podgolok has raised this issue to the highest authority, which is us. The Batarian hegemony is displeased at the recent developments in the Attican traverse. Ambassador, would you care to elaborate on your point?” Tevos requested as she gestured to Kocor, who stood up and made himself presentable and firm in posture. 

“The Batarian hegemony is concerned that the Council is allowing thugs to run free in the galaxy. Several systems in the traverse have been under Batarian rule and interest for the better part of 200 years, something which we feel like the council is brushing over. The Batarians will not be ignored anymore.” The Ambassador took a moment to breathe, nice and quiet. “The German Reich is violating Batarian sovereignty and interests by expanding their colonies into our interest zones. This is a clear cut case of the Reich trying to provoke us.” Kocor argued as he pointed a finger straight at Alexander. It was nothing new to Alexander, Kocor had always been like this. 

“Noted. So the Batarian Hegemony wishes for the council to take action against the German Reich? What measures are they hoping for?” Tevos asked as she looked over at Kocor again. 

“Sanctions, military action, expelling them. We don’t care, as long as they leave our zones of interests in the traverse effective immediately. Show the Hegemony that you value our friendship and cooperation. You can’t choose the Reich over us. We have been here for the better part of 300 years.” Kocor was sure in his case, just as sure as Alexander was. Somewhere, he applauded the ugly looking alien for his passion. 

Tevos seemed to note down all the Batarian ambassador said. The two other councilors did as well, and Alexander could already see where they were leaning towards. It was clear that councilor Sparatus was sympathetic towards the Batarians, anyone who wasn’t the Reich automatically earned the Turians vote. Much like the Americans back during the war, how eager weren’t they to ally with the judeo-bolshevik in Russia? Or every single undesirable in Africa? This was no surprise, not by a long shot. Tevos seemed a tad bit more in the Reich’s camp, no doubt she enjoyed the luxury goods from Reich’s space, and besides… The Batarians had spelt trouble for the council ever since they stumbled into council space. Valern was harder to read, but if Alexander had to wager a guess, he would say a little bit towards the Reich’s cause as well. Didn’t help that Batarians pirates had increased their raiding in Salarian space. 

“What is the Reich’s official response to the claims made by the Batarian hegemony?” Councilor Tevos asked as her gaze fell towards Alexander, who promptly made his way to the center stage. Ready to make his case.

“I speak with the authority of the Führer Ulfric Kuhn, who has ordered me to protect German interests in the traverse. The Reich fully understands the Batarian hegemony’s position, but is more critical of their utter disregard of Citadel laws, as well as the safety German colonies bring to the traverse. Let us break down how the Reich took extra steps to assure that our colonization was well within Citadel laws. First up: There are no laws stated by the Citadel that deals with colonization outside of the main space a race occupies. The council have never declared the traverse a zone of Batarian interest, and even if they did, there are no laws that dictate that other races can not colonize systems within a zone of interest. The Reich acted in good faith, and will not tolerate a council that won’t even consider their own laws before passing out judgements. We do not forgive weakness.” Alexander took a moment to see their reactions. Surprisingly content with the first part of his answer, even the Turian councilor struggled to make any counter points.

“Second: The Hitlerstadt accords in 2043, where the Führer personally asked the council for colonization in the traverse. The council is recorded as having stated that the Reich was free to colonize the traverse, but would be doing so at their own risk. In fact, the council greatly encouraged the Reich to begin colonization as soon as possible, since in their words, it greatly increased security in the region. The council even promised us that the Batarian Hegemony wouldn’t be upset by that decision.” Alexander hit the nail perfectly and precise. “The offices of joint colonization on the citadel had been notified of each and every colony we have ever established in the Traverse, and never blocked us. In fact, much like the council, they encouraged us. We have documents to back up these claims.” Alexander was happy with this answer he gave, it came naturally. The script he wrote yesterday even paled in comparison of how he was able to formulate it. 

“To make a long tale short, the Reich will not back down. We will not abandon our hard fought effort to bring stability to the Traverse, we have invested too much to back down now.” Alexander was giving them a back handed ultimatum, it seemed like Kocor was taking a page out of Alexander’s book, but only not as subtle. 

“THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY BELIEVE THIS THUG!” Kocor erupted as he fumed with anger. Alexander swore he saw smoke come out the Batarian’s ears. 

“Thug?! You are the ones trying to get the Reich kicked out of an entire region of space! I see no bigger thug than the Hegemony in this room.” Alexander fired back. How dare that four eyed fuck? 

“YOU CAN’T SAY THAT!” 

“That’s enough!” Tevos stopped the argument. “Thank you Ambassador Jäger for the counter arguments. The council will now decide the outcome of this crisis.” Tevos added. She called for a break, which Alexander eagerly accepted. He walked around the tree planted within the chambers. Trying to appear excited, because if he was right, this would mark a glorious victory for the Reich, and set the stage for years to come. 

Within 30 minutes, they were called back to the main chamber, where the councilors awaited them. Alexander kept a calm posture, despite feeling smug at what he realized what was going to happen. He looked over at the Batarian ambassador, who seemed more visibly worried at what might happen in just a few moments. 

“The council has come to an agreement on the verdict of this case. United, we have decided that we will favor the Reich. Based on Herr Jäger strong argumentation, as well as the promises we have made to the Reich over the years. Not to mention the lack of laws on this area, which unfortunately has led us to decline the Batarian’s demands.” Tevos spoke for all the councilors, and although the Turian councilor didn’t seem too happy with the verdict, he did nod as Tevos spoke. 

“WHAT? YOU CAN’T SERIOUS?! YOU WILL PICK THEM OVER US? DOES 300 YEARS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?” Kocor asked as he scrambled to find the words. 

“We have come to an agreement. The case for the removal of the Reich from the Traverse is simply too weak for us to do anything about it. Terribly sorry Ambassador.” Tevos replied. 

“If you don’t come to a new agreement right this instance, the Batarian Hegemony will see no reason to continue cooperation with the council. Should the council keep on ignoring the plight of the Batarians, we will formally renounce any and all treaties we have with the council. THINK ABOUT THAT!” The tension went from moderate to high in an instant. Alexander had seen this coming, and he was trying his hardest to avoid smiling. 

The councilors looked at each other, and after a few seconds both the Salarian and Turian councilors nodded to Councilor Tevos. She sighed. “Our decision stands, Ambassador. We hope the Batarian Hegemony will not rush to such drastic measures. Surely there is still a lot to be accomplished by a fruitful dialogue.” Tevos replied, and that set off the Batarian Ambassador completely. Might as well have told him to fuck off. 

“THAT’S IT! WE ARE LEAVING, AND THIS WILL BE THE LAST TIME YOU SEE A FRIENDLY BATARIAN. MARK MY WORDS GERMAN!” Kocor screamed as he pointed his finger directly at Alexander, who simply shook his head. The Batarian ambassador stormed off, and his bodyguards followed suit. And just like that, the Batarians went rogue. The Council began to discuss it internally. 

“The German Reich is glad that the council upheld their values and promises. We will look on this as a benchmark in our diplomacy. While it is regrettable that the Batarians are now leaving, the Reich is willing to help the council in any capacity should it resort to violence.” Alexander broke the silence to assure them. They had chosen the Reich over the Hegemony. Not that it made any sense to do anything but that. The Kriegsmarine was growing daily, and would rival the Turian Navy in just a few years. But all that aside, now a new chapter in galactic history would be opened. 

“Thank you Ambassador. We appreciate the support.” Tevos smiled as best she could under the circumstances. 

* * *

  
  


**A few hours later…**

**German embassy.**

After many hours of dialogue with the Council, Alexander had returned to his office. He was excited, years of hard work had paid off. Backroom politics had culminated in an event that would pull headlines for weeks to come. Now, the Batarians would be isolated and aggressive. The most ideal state for the Reich to exploit. 

As Alexander approached his desk, he saw a small otherwise non noteworthy box. As he sat down, he took at a small piece of paper underneath the box. He read it carefully. 

“ _ A job well done, Herr Ambassador. _ ” was all it read, but he knew this gift came from Der Erlkönig. He opened the box, and found a gold watch inside. He tried it on, and it fit him perfectly. Engraved with the symbols of the Reich, nothing could suit him more. He smiled, whatever the next phrase was, it was now onto the Reich proper to organize itself properly to face the coming storm. Before he could think further on the issue, his hologram once again called. He figured it would be the Erlkönig who wanted to set him on the last stage. But instead, it was a very different figure. 

“Mein Führer!” Alexander scrambled to salute as perfectly as he could. 

“I heard the news Ambassador. While I do not enjoy the tensions that will no doubt come from this, you did a good job of protecting German interests, as well as keeping a good relationship with the council. I have placed the Wehrmacht on increased alert, should the Batarians try anything stupid.” Ulfric said. Alexander enjoyed seeing the Führer having to admit he did a good job. It felt right, like years of being ignored fully paying off. 

“Thank you Mein Führer. I would definitely advise the same. The Batarians can not be trusted, and will likely be arrogant enough to think they can take us on. I will make sure the Council stays on our side in any such conflict.” Alexander promised with a warm smile. 

“Good… Good. Forward any noteworthy files to me, otherwise your duties remain the same. Sieg Heil.” Ulfric signed off. 

“Heil Germania!” 

For better or worse, the future is the Reich’s to grasp. It’s just a matter of reaching your hand out and taking it. Victory belongs to the Reich. 

  
  



End file.
